Daybreak
by cto10121
Summary: New Moon, AU. Bella Swan's life, horrible enough as it is, is changed irrevocably when a new English teacher arrives at Forks, a one Mr. John Smith. Only he's not what he pretends to be...Crossover, Twilight/Doctor Who. Bella/Edward, Ten/Rose.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is my first crossover story, so don't be too harsh on me. This idea is solely and originally Danni34's, but all writing is mine. Some ideas are hers, and some are mine. As she is an expert on crossovers, she's helping me with this one. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, and please remember to review if you like it! **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

**Prologue**

It is strange how tightly we cling to life at the direst moments, while the knowledge of death chokes you, when you know for sure that you are going to die and there is nothing anybody can do about it. That cold, sick feeling in your lungs, that fierce, warm desire for life, and that adrenaline pumping into your veins–those are feelings and sensations that I've become acquainted with on a normal basis, but were still horrible to experience.

Not as bad as when Edward had…left me, though. No feeling could possibly be as bad as that. After all, the world couldn't end twice.

But it was stupid, ridiculous that I should feel panic and fear, when I've been in so many dire and dangerous situations, from tripping to getting tracked down by a sadistic vampire in Phoenix. Then again, I wasn't worrying solely about my own life at the moment.

The blonde-haired girl squeezed my hand tightly in reassurance and I likewise. At least I wouldn't die alone. We are going to die together, knowing that our true loves will, at least, be safe. That made the whole dying ordeal almost bearable.

I closed my eyes, my body bracing itself for the impact of death, and vaguely I heard, as of from a distance, a slight, familiar whooshing sound.


	2. New Teacher

**A/N: Here you go! I hope you like it and that you don't think that my efforts are pitiful...anyway, read and review! **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter One-New Teacher

Something had come. I could feel it in the atmosphere when I arrived at school, even through my numb shell. I was surprised to feel it, but I guess it is palpable enough to reach me, the recluse, the zombie. A piece of news able to penetrate into my consciousness. I could hear talking, and for once it wasn't such a mindless babble. What were they talking about? A new…arrival? A new teacher? Here? I suddenly remembered what Charlie had said to me after threatening to send me to Florida, just before I'd hurried off:

"_You do know that you have a new teacher for English, right?" Charlie asked, a tinge of desperation in his tone. A last ditch attempt to involve me in conversation. _

"_Really?" I said vaguely. My mind was only on half the conversation. "Mr. Berty retired?"_

"_Bella, don't you remember?" Charlie was disapproving. "He left two weeks ago to Hawaii, along with his wife. It was all so sudden; a pair of plane tickets showed up on his doorstep. It belonged to nobody so the Bertys thought that they were probably a gift and started packing their bags. They were ecstatic." He eyed me through narrowed eyes. "The whole town was talking about it." _

"_Oh." I swung my bag over my shoulder. "Well, I'm sure I'll be able to talk to you about the new teacher afterwards. See you, Dad!"_

"_Bella–" _

_But I left before he could say anything else. _

I felt a tiny surge of guilt for running out like that on Charlie, but frankly, his talk of sending me to Florida frightened me. The possibility of leaving Forks was inconceivable, unthinkable. Besides, it was totally unfair for Charlie to say that when my behavior for the past few months had been impeccable. I went to school, I hardly took a sick day for work, and my grades were even perfect. Charlie had no right to threaten me with banishment. I shuddered at the very thought of it.

I was early to school in my haste to get away from Charlie so I decided to wait it out until the parking lot was full and I had no choice but to go to English. I hesitated a bit at the doorway. The thought of a new teacher filled me with a sense of trepidation. I did not deal well with change, not anymore. But I sighed and entered the classroom. My eyes were immediately drawn to a tall, thin, unfamiliar man leaning on the prior Mr. Berty's desk. He had dark brown hair and protuberant hazel eyes. He was wearing a large brown trench coat, complete with vest and tie. I went to my seat next to Jessica, still staring warily at this new, eccentric-looking teacher. Jessica, for once, was not giving me the cold shoulder or warily ignoring me. She was too busy giggling over the apparent good looks of the new teacher over to her neighbor.

"All right, class, settle down," called the new teacher and I was a bit surprised to hear that he had a British accent.

Everyone quieted down immediately and the few late stragglers rushed to their seats. It was clear that they didn't want to anger this new teacher without knowing his temperament.

"Hello, class, I'm Mr. John Smith, your new English teacher for the rest of this semester," said Mr. Smith in a cheerful, genial tone. "Today we're having a little review over the last semester, nothing too hard, as you should know this already. Now, let's start with one of William Shakespeare's greatest plays…"

My heart sank down to my navel, quickening its pace. _Please let it be _Hamlet_ or _King Lear_ or even _Macbeth_, _I thought silently, but ardently._ Just nothing even remotely romantic like–_

"_Romeo and Juliet_!" Mr. Smith exclaimed, beaming, and I inwardly groaned. "Let's play a little review game, shall we? I will tell you all a quote from Romeo and Juliet and you will have to identify which character said it."

There was a murmur of enthusiasm around the classroom. Mr. Berty had been a test-giving type and did not set much store for games. In that instance, though, I would've preferred Mr. Berty returning from Hawaii than dealing with a new teacher who may or may not know what he's doing.

"Alright then, quotes." Mr. Smith rocked backwards and forwards on his heels, obviously thinking. "Quotes, quotes, quotes, quotes…aha! Got it." He suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at Mike. "You, sir, what's your name?"

"Mike Newton," replied Mike, looking wary about the eccentrities of the teacher.

"Alright, Mike," said Mr. Smith, getting his name wrong on the first try. "Here's the quote: 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds doth shake the darling buds of–wait a minute." He broke off, his forehead creasing. "Sorry, that's from one of Shakespeare's sonnets! Sorry, Ike."

"It's Mike," Mike corrected as politely as he could manage through gritted teeth.

Mr. Smith continued again, only this time he got the quotes correct. As class progressed, my classmates seemed to be drawn into the little game, though I wasn't sure whether it was because of Mr. Smith's tangible enthusiasm–wholly inappropriate for a teacher in high school–or because they wanted to take advantage of the fact that they were playing a game and not taking notes or doing class work. The only one not really participating was me, and that was only because Mr. Smith kept choosing such gooey romantic quotes. At some point, though, he finally steered course for a bit.

"Alright, how about this quote: 'If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for the pricking, and you beat love down'." Mr. Smith flashed a mischievous grin.

I repressed the urge to groan again while the others snickered. Was it really necessary to choose quotes said by _Mercutio_, of all people? Then again, this was preferable to the romantic spiel Mr. Smith kept dishing out, so I didn't mind. Everyone, however, seemed quiet, as though they remembered the quote, but not who said it.

"Aw, come on!" Mr. Smith encouraged. "If you don't know, guess."

A girl whose name I didn't know raised her hand. "Benvolio?" she suggested tentatively.

"Hmm, not him," Mr. Smith replied, a kind of boyish excitement on his countenance. "You're close, though."

"Nurse?" A smart-aleck asked flippantly.

"Yes, like Nurse would say such a thing like that," Mr. Smith said sardonically, which made the class laugh in surprise–it wasn't often that a teacher applied the use of sarcasm.

It was then that I decided to raise my hand. At least Charlie or Mr. Smith couldn't complain that I at least participated in class.

"Yes?" Mr. Smith called on me.

"Mercutio," I answered, and I was struck with the realization that my voice fell a little flat.

"Correctomundo," Mr. Smith said happily, and the class snickered at his rather exuberant choice of words. He looked at the seating chart. "Your name is…Isabella Swan?"

"Bella," I corrected automatically, more of a habit than anything else.

"Nice answer, Bella," he praised, bestowing a smile on me. I said nothing, though I was struck oddly by his sudden generosity.

He continued till the bell rang, and the class actually let out a groan, though they cheered up when Mr. Smith announced that there was no homework for today. I quietly got my things together, secretly relieved to escape from the clutches of the eccentric new teacher.

* * *

Charlie was particularly keen on details of how the class went when I arrived at home and, of course, Mr. Smith. I answered him as truthfully as possible, volunteering more details than usual, which I know made Charlie choke with happiness. I didn't tell him that it was mostly his threat to send me to Florida and the startling peculiarity of Mr. Smith that made me pay attention more to class. Eventually he got tired of sucking information out of me and volunteered some of his own.

"There have been some bear sightings today," he said. "Nothing too serious, though I've heard that the bears were huge. People got a little shaken up by the sight, though."

I only "mmed" in response, forcing the spaghetti down my throat. I had no appetite for food now.

"Incidentally, I talked to Mr. Smith," Charlie remarked and I looked up. "He'd popped in for a visit just when I received the report of a bear sighting. Was very interested about them. He's from South London–well, that's obvious, given his accent–and also his assistant."

"Assistant?" I asked, in a valiant effort to get involved in the conversation more, but also a bit curious to find out about this assistant.

"Yeah. Mr. Smith talked very little about her, but he told me that she was young, and blonde. He referred to her as his 'companion'. Mr. Smith used to travel a lot before settling down in Forks."

He paused, but I said nothing.

"Weird guy, but good-natured enough, I guess. Like you said, eccentric." He paused again to eat a mouthful of spaghetti. "Say, have you talked to your friends lately?"

I cringed. Crap. I forgot about Charlie's ultimatum.

"I forgot," I finally admitted. "But it was only because of the excitement of the new teacher. I will get more involved, I promise."

Charlie didn't look pleased at all, but he sighed. "Be sure you do that."

"Sure, Dad," I said, relieved to have been given an unexpected reprieve. But I knew that my reclusiveness wasn't going to last long.

* * *

**A/N: Hmm, not much to say, except to please review and tell me what you think of it so far! Hope you all like it...**


	3. Rose

**A/N: First of all, thank you for all the reviews I've received from Danni34 (of course), MellaIsi, Batgirl88, SweetHomeNC, krisprincess11, and cubicle777. I appreciate your helpful reviews! Now, here's the next chapter of Daybreak!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or Twilight…geez, just thinking about it makes me feel so depressed…**

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Two-Rose

Charlie wasn't at home when I went downstairs the next morning, as per usual. He had obviously had heard my screaming at night and although he was used to it and didn't come to my room anymore, I knew that it tore him apart. I felt more than a twinge of guilt now.

After a quick drink from the milk jug and a piece of toast I drove to school, sensing another boring, tedious day ahead and the gloomy, oppressive clouds above did nothing to improve my mood. It was only when I arrived at the school parking lot that I realized that I was ridiculously early, yet again. Other than a few cars, it was empty. Then again, being early was preferable than being alone in the empty house. I sighed and parked my truck, thinking that perhaps I could sit on a bench and recheck my Trigonometry homework. My grade these past few months has been hovering at a low A, something Mr. Varner dubs as a result of his superior teaching skills. I was far from bursting his bubble. Besides, math was a great distraction and took up most of my time.

I was heading towards the other side of the cafeteria, hoping that I might get a bench, when I saw her.

She was sitting alone, conspicuous in the sea of empty benches. She had straight yellow-blonde hair and looked to be nineteen or twenty years at the most. I've never seen her before in school and I was positive she wasn't a student–I would've recognized her. She had a deep mauve blouse underneath a blue jacket and black jeans.

My first instinct was to turn and walk away quickly before the girl saw me; I was in no mood to pretend to be engaged in conversation and to fake smile and fake laugh. But before I could take one step away, the girl caught sight of me and waved at me–a blatant invitation. I mentally sighed, having no choice but to obey the social norm and join her.

Up close her features were no longer blurry and undecided. She was a bit pudgy, with chubby cheeks, and big lips. Nevertheless, the effect was quite endearing.

"Hi," she said, and I was surprised to hear a British accent again. "I'm Rose, Rose Tyler. Are you a student here?"

I mentally sighed. "Yes," I answered, and then I remembered what Charlie had said last night. "Wait–you're with Mr. Smith, aren't you?"

Rose's face registered shock. "How'd you know?"

I shrugged. "Cha–my dad told me. News travels fast in this town."

"I'll bet," said Rose, sounding highly amused. "So what's your name?"

"Isabella Swan," I answered automatically. "But everyone calls me Bella."

"Nice to meet you, Bella." Rose's smile seemed genuine enough, and I gave her a slightly forced smile back. "Say, do you have Mr. Smith for English?"

"Yeah," I replied, a mite puzzled. "First hour. Why?"

Rose stared at me intently. "Because I think he mentioned you to me."

This startled me. "What?"

"Yeah." Rose was nodding now. "He told me there was a student in his first hour class whom he had noticed. He said that she–or you–looked sort of…empty. I don't really know what he meant by that."

I stared at her, surprised etched on my face. Mr. Smith had noticed my…state? But he'd only been here for a day or so. How could a mere stranger pick up on something so sensitive of nature so quickly? Perhaps I was even more readable than I thought.

"Mr. Smith can be very perceptive," Rose remarked in lieu of explanation. "So did he mean you?"

For a moment I considered lying. I'd say that I was fine, that there was nothing wrong with me, that I didn't have a great big hole in my chest. For a moment I considered that–but I was so sick of lying. Lying to my friends, lying to my family, even sometimes lying to myself. I've been trying to convince everybody that I was alright with the Cullens–I mentally winced–leaving, and so far I have been failing miserably. I was too transparent, and if two mere strangers caught on to the fact that I am a wreck so quickly, what hope was there for me to survive one more year of high school? None, zip, _nada_.

"Yes, I think he did," I said carefully.

"I thought he did." Rose sounded grim. "So what's happened to you?"

I looked down at the bench we were sitting on, refusing to look into her eyes. "To make a long story short, the guy I was dating left town–and, consequently, me." There. Short, sweet, to the point. It was the understatement of the grossest kind, but Rose needn't know of the depth of my feelings for…him.

There was a silence and I inwardly groaned. Great, now she was feeling pity for me. Wasn't that the reason I put up this whole "I'm-okay" façade, so that I wouldn't be subject to their sympathy? Whatever had possessed me to let my guard down with this girl whom I know nothing about? In that moment, I wanted nothing more or less than to curl up in a tight ball and die.

"Do you know that I traveled with Mr. Smith?" Rose asked me suddenly.

I blinked, accidentally looking at her in surprise. There was the sympathy I was expecting in her eyes, but also what looked like…empathy? "Yes, my dad told me."

"I was nineteen when I met him," Rose said reminiscently. "Only a year ago. Until then my life hadn't been anything special, though I didn't know it then. I was just a normal London girl. Then Mr. Smith came and I began traveling with him. We went to all sorts of places, places I cannot even begin to describe, places you won't be able to imagine. I've traveled far, far away from home. It was just me and Mr. Smith, seeing the sights and traveling to wherever we wanted to go. I grew to love it and my previous life seemed pale and dull in comparison."

"But it was dangerous. My mother was firmly against me traveling from the start, but she knew she could not stop me if I really wanted to go. As for myself, I didn't really are about the danger as long as I had Mr. Smith by my side."

I forced myself not to look away, even though I felt the gaping hole within me throb as I remembered that that was my exact sentiments whenever I was with _him_. The danger that he represented was insignificant to me in contrast to being with him.

"Then we were caught in a situation that threatened our lives," Rose continued. "Well–my life mostly. And so…to keep me safe…he dropped me off at home and left. No good-bye. No indication, no warning at all."

"Oh," I breathed softly. It was an inappropriate response, but I really couldn't think of anything else to say. In truth, I hadn't expected that.

"I was distraught. I've…grown a bit too fond of traveling and such and so it was a shock for me. Eventually, I managed to get back to him, but I guess I never quite forgotten that day." Rose put on a brave smile. "But still, it couldn't have been as devastating as what you went through, was it?"

I was silent. That had sounded too much what _he _would've done if he had been in Mr. Smith's place–and, of course, if he had loved me. I didn't know if it would've been the same thing, if I would have the same large, gaping hole in that situation. Perhaps I would've done what Rose had done, and tried my damndest to go back to him. But what if, before leaving, he had said the exact same thing he had told me that fateful day in the forest, that he wasn't leaving because he was concerned about my safety, but because he didn't love me and grew tired of me? Then there would be absolutely no difference at all.

"Maybe it would be," I finally replied.

Rose nodded. "Just remember, though, that it's not really the end of the world. With time, I think, it gets easier. I wouldn't know, though," she admitted sheepishly. "So…yeah, don't listen to a word I'm saying."

I forced myself to smile. "No, no, you're right. Of course it's not the end of the world," I half-lied. Just the end of _my _world.

"Well, at least one of us thinks I'm making any sense," Rose muttered, and then her eyes widened. "Oh, I almost forgot! I've got to go see the Doc–er, Mr. Smith about something. You don't mind if I dash, do you?"

"Not at all," I said in the most assuring voice I could muster. I could already see the rest of the school pouring in and knew that it was about that time to get to class.

"See you, Bella!" Rose called over her shoulder as she dashed away, disappearing into the crowd. I blinked, surprised at her sudden departure. I sat on the bench for a little while longer before slowly getting up. As I walked toward class I noticed, to my surprise, that the hollow gaping hole in my chest seemed to have mended a little.

* * *

**A/N: Well…hope that you all liked this chapter! I know this is a bit…well, gloomy and somber, but don't worry, because the first half of the next chapter will be very funny…and the second half will be back to somber and depressing again. But as the story progresses, the story will become more and more funny (it is inevitable; after all, the Doctor makes **_**everything **_**funny). So…yeah. Review please! **


	4. Into the Woods

**A/N: Here's the third chapter! Thanks for everyone who reviewed last chapter…which was only three of you –pouts-. 247 hits and only eleven reviews? I know there are more people reading this story... so I encourage you all to review! Thanks for those who have, though! R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who nor do I own Twilight. Aw, man…**

* * *

Daybreak  
by cto10121

Chapter Three-Into the Woods

Mr. Smith was even more eccentric and hyper than usual when I arrived in English. No less than ten times he called Mike "Ike", to whom Mike corrected him many times, exasperated, even though Mr. Smith had learned his name yesterday. He could hardly keep still and was constantly bouncing in place. He's definitely a strange man.

Funnily enough, though, I found his cheerful disposition and happy grin much easier to bear. It's as though a burden had been lifted slightly from my shoulders. The only thing that I could think of that could possibly have triggered this reaction was my conversation with Rose–which was illogical. And yet, she did empathize with me and related my hopeless situation to hers instead of pitying me like any other stranger would do. Of that, I was grateful.

It was halfway through the lesson that something interesting happened, however. All of a sudden, the door opened with a loud bang, making us all jump and look to see who it was. A tall man with ebony hair and blue eyes stormed in, wearing black pants with a black leather jacket. He was admittedly good-looking, with a handsome face and a strong jaw, though I had spent too much of my time around vampires to think of his looks as noticeable. I did hear, however, some of my female classmates catch their breath. His expression was dark and turbulent, and the class had the scare of a lifetime when he brought his arm back and punched Mr. Smith right on the face. I stared, wide-eyed, as Mr. Smith stumbled backwards–but before he could hit the floor, the man grabbed a fistful of his shirt and meshed his lips with Mr. Smith's in a passionate kiss.

The class's shock gave way to amusement as they watched Mr. Smith, wide-eyed, struggle against the firm embrace of his friend or lover or whatever relation he was to him, his arms frantically flailing about. Some of them even took out their cell phones to snap pictures of the "couple", especially Mike–he didn't seem too keen on Mr. Smith after failing several times to get his name right.

By the time Mr. Smith disentangled himself from the stranger's arms, wiping his lips on his sleeve as he did so, the class had already taken their pictures and were trying vainly to keep straight faces. Mr. Smith pointed to all of us in a threatening manner.

"_He _kissed _me_, alright?" he yelled over the tumult. "I want to make that perfectly clear to everyone–and you!" Mr. Smith suddenly turned toward the man, who didn't look furious anymore, but was grinning roguishly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Outside–now!"

"Sure thing, Doc," said the man cheerfully, and I noticed that, unlike Mr. Smith, he had an American accent. He whistled aimlessly as he went out the door, perfectly nonchalant. Mr. Smith then turned to the class.

"Er, just sit there and I'll be right back," he said hurriedly, and went outside, closing the door firmly behind him.

The class lost all its inhibitions as they roared with laughter. I was the only one who wasn't laughing, but I think it was mostly because of the shock and because a part of me didn't know whether to laugh or be disturbed by the display. I did feel, however, a tickle in my diaphragm, the corners of my mouth twitched involuntarily and I suddenly realized that I actually _wanted _to laugh. It was weird, having the desire to laugh. I felt as though I had forgotten that once upon a time I would've been laughing along with my classmates. What had happening to me?

* * *

Soon after Gym–always hated–I headed towards my truck with a distinct feeling that I was walking the same path every day. I wouldn't be surprised if my footprints would be forever engraved into the cement. That thought made me feel a bit depressed. Would the rest of my life be the same way? Just the same old pattern, day after day, with little to no change?

This disturbing idea reminded me of my nightmares–well, nightmare, since it was the same one I've been having ever since they left–and I shuddered. One would think I would get tired of the same nightmare over and over again, but it was just as horrifying as ever. To a normal, sane person, the nightmare wouldn't have been scary at all. After all, there was no howling wind, no somber, gloomy forests, no frightening edge, no hungry, red-eyed vampires–not even a "boo". No, what made them so terrifying was the fact that there was nothing. In my nightmare I wander. Just wander around aimlessly, and yet always with that nagging feeling of looking for something, or someone. The setting would be different at times, whether in La Push beach or the forest near home. At some point in the dream I would come to the inevitable and horrible conclusion–that there was nothing to search for, nothing to wait for, nothing vital or wonderful or important that would happen in this safe, inconsequential town, that the future that I so longed for and dreamed of has been forever lost.

That's the point where I'd wake up screaming.

As I walked, goose bumps erupted in my skin, though I suspected it had little to do with the remembrance of my nightmare. My skin prickled, and I had the distinct feeling of being watched. I looked around edgily, but the almost-empty parking lot seemed innocent and benign enough. I shook my head; it was probably nothing, I told myself, but I couldn't shake off that crawling feeling under my skin.

That's when I saw it.

Something caught my eye that made me stop dead in my tracks. It was two red glimmers in the forest surrounding one side of the parking lot, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. In the second just before it disappeared, I realized that they were not mere red glimmers.

They were a pair of crimson _eyes_.

A thrill of genuine fear shot through me like a bullet. My skin turned hot, then cold, then hot again. The familiarity of those eyes let all the memories escape. I waited for the hole to rip itself, for the pain to come, but instead I felt numb. My heart accelerated, not with fear, but with excitement. It didn't matter that it wasn't them, or _him_–there would still be absolute proof that _he_ existed.

_It will be as if I'd never existed_. The words carried none of his intonation; they were blank in my mind, like reading words off a page. The hole stung fiercely, but it was surprisingly bearable. The numbness kept it from spreading and incapacitating me. Inside I was filled with a wild excitement and before I knew it, I was running–running towards the spot where I saw the eyes.

The forest was as dark and murky like the La Push one. But I wasn't filled with my usual cautiousness or trepidation. I looked around, but everything seemed deserted. I wasn't discouraged, however. Recklessly I ran as fast as I could without tripping myself, weaving through the trees. The emerald green light of the forest seemed eerie. In my haste, I tripped a few times, and got a few scrapes in my hands and arms.

As I ventured deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest I felt a dull, sinking feeling threatening to encompass me. The irrational excitement and anticipation was slowly fading. I pushed back some branches, trying to control the tears threatening to spill out at any given moment.

I had passed through a low arc of moss when I saw it. I had stumbled upon a clearing, and in the middle of it was a big, blue public police box.

I blinked. No–I wasn't hallucinating, it was definitely there. It looked old, and I wondered briefly if it was indeed a genuine England police box from the 1950's. It couldn't be–and even if it was, what was it doing in the middle of a forest?

I approached the police box, my excitement revived, but restrained. A London police box had no business residing in a forest. I ignored the little voice in my head telling me that it wasn't prudent to go poking around in strange police boxes just happening to appear in the middle of the woods and walked over to it. Nothing happened. I tried to open the doors, but surprisingly they wouldn't budge. Frowning, I tried again, but it seemed locked. I stepped back to observe the box more closely and saw that the light on top was on, indicating that someone was in there…or if it was in working order. Either way, I felt suddenly worried. But as I stood there, like an idiot, staring at the box, nothing happened.

My excitement then dissolved quickly. Disappointment washed through me like a bucket of ice cold water. I only vaguely realized that I had fallen down to my knees. The numbness that had kept me safe was quickly disappearing and the pain reared its head once again. I gasped, and wrapped my arms tightly around my torso in a vain attempt to keep myself in one piece. I had made the worst mistake I could've made in my state–I had let myself hope.

Hope. Such a dangerous thing for me. One that had the capacity to fully destroy me. Tears streaked down my cheeks despite myself, and racking sobs tore from me like spasms. The hole throbbed hollowly, the scars opening themselves once more.

"Bella?"

Dimly, through the haze of my agony, I was shock to hear Rose's voice. I did not hear her approach. She sounded surprised and alarmed. As her presence sunk in, I realized that I had an unwelcome witness to my vulnerable state and that proved a large enough distraction–the pain became muted, but still prickling at the edges of the hole.

"R-Rose," I gasped, struggling on the verge of speech. "Please…please go."

"No." She sounded obstinate and stubborn. "You're hurting. Are you alright?"

"N-not really," I muttered, my whole body still shuddering. "D-don't worry about m-me–"

There was a loud, disbelieving snort. "You're not okay and yet you don't want me to worry about you? Are you mad?"

I didn't answer, my body still racking against the waves of anguish. Suddenly, I felt an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in a warm, comforting embrace. I stiffened, but then slowly relaxed. It was a bit strange; when was the last time a human had ever hugged me like this?

"Shh, it's okay," Rose said softly. Her hand gently squeezed my shoulder. I finally looked up at Rose through red, puffy eyes. Her face was warm and concerned…and wholly unbearable to look at. I quickly looked down, wanting to tell her not to waste her compassion on me, a hopeless case, but I still hadn't gotten control of myself.

"There, there." Rose then called out, "Doctor!"

Doctor? We were in the middle of the woods–why on earth would she call a doctor? My head began to spin.

But then I heard a slight crunching sound and another voice. It was male, and it sounding low, serious, and slightly urgent.

"What's happened to her?"

It was Mr. Smith. I was shocked. Why was he here?

"I dunno. I just found her here, in front of the…" Rose trailed off and I became more confused than ever.

"Isabella?" Mr. Smith's voice was cautious.

"Bella," I reminded him.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said hastily. "Bella, have you've been hurt?"

I froze in recognition. That's what Same Uley had asked me on that dreadful night when he found me. I remembered thinking that it was significant, somehow, especially after Dr. Gerandy had asked a different type of question: "Are you hurt?"

The memory of that night made me double in pain again, but the pain was suddenly bearable. Was I growing stronger or was it the company of Mr. Smith and Rose that kept me from falling apart?

"No," I said shakily, but more calmly.

"Tell me what happened." It didn't sound like an order, more like a suggestion, but I nevertheless felt compelled to answer.

"Nothing, really. Just me being stupid and weak again." I shrugged as casually as I could manage. I sneaked a look at Mr. Smith and Rose and caught them exchanging glances.

"But you were crying," Rose pointed out unnecessarily. "And you were holding yourself and gasping as though you were in pain."

I bit my lip. Great, now I had to explain why I had completely broken down. I contemplated lying, but what should I say?

_You see, I went for walk in the forest for no apparent reason and I just happened to accidentally discover a public police box in the middle of the woods. I got upset and then you found me. That's it, really. _

Even in my head the words sounded stupid and wholly unconvincing. So I decided to settle for half-truths instead–I wasn't in the habit of spilling my guts to strangers, even if I had talked to Rose before and witnessed an intimate scene between Mr. Smith and that man.

"I thought I saw something familiar in the forest so I decided to check it out," I finally said. "And then I discovered this box–" I gestured vaguely to the box. "–and…well, my hopes really were brutally crushed and so I…lost control, I guess." The residual disappointment and desperation flared up again and my arms tightened, grimacing slightly.

There was a brief pause while Mr. Smith and Rose processed my very lame and very vague explanation. Then I felt Mr. Smith's arm around my other shoulder, and they hugged me tightly. I gasped for breath, and yet the pain receded, only prickling now. The warmth of their bodies kept me from splitting apart. For the first time in months, I felt…whole again.

"Okay…is something happening? And if it is…can I join?"

I was immediately released and saw who had spoken. It was that man who had kissed Mr. Smith earlier. He stood a few feet from us, quirking an eyebrow, looking suggestive. It took a few seconds to grasp the innuendo in his tone and I blushed. Mr. Smith and Rose glared at him, not amused.

"Jack, we aren't doing anything," Mr. Smith said shortly. "We are merely comforting a girl in distress."

"But I love damsels in distress!" exclaimed jack. "Though I usually put _them _in distress," he added, winking openly at me. I stared, not knowing how to react to his flippancy.

"Go away, Jack," said Mr. Smith in an annoyed tone. I think he still hadn't forgiven the man–Jack–for kissing him in front of the whole class.

Jack's face fell into a pout that impossibly enhanced his cute features.

"Fine, I'll go," he said sulkily–all an act, of course. "Since nobody wants me."

Huffing indignantly, he walked dramatically past us and to the box, opened the door of the box so easily and effortlessly that I gaped, and went in, shutting the door behind him. My mouth fell open in a ridiculous fashion. How did he do that?

Mr. Smith groaned loudly, smacking his forehead with his hand, and then slowly running his fingers through his hair and making it even more messy. Grumbling something about a stupid idiot, he went into the box, making sure to shut the door so I wouldn't see the inside of it. I looked at Rose to exchange puzzled looks with her, but she didn't even seem surprised–in fact, she looked chagrin, shaking her head back and forth, as though Jack had committed a serious faux pas.

About a minute passed until Mr. Smith came out, pulling Jack by the ear, with Jack howling in protest.

"Owwwwww! Let go of me! Why can't I go into the–" Jack shut up instantly at Mr. Smith's glare. Mr. Smith then nonverbally pointed at me, his eyebrows raised.

Comprehension dawned in Jack's eyes. "Oh," he said sheepishly, turning red. "Sorry."

"Years of thinking with your libido instead of your head has proved detrimental to your mental health," said Mr. Smith, clearly irritated.

"Yeah…what he said," Rose said hastily.

"What is this, 'Pick-On-Jack' day?" Jack said, annoyed. "Okay, okay, I can take a hint–I'll leave."

"Okay," said Mr. Smith and Rose simultaneously.

"All right then," said Jack defiantly. "I will!"

He then disappeared behind a clump of bushes, his nose high in the air. Mr. Smith and Rose then sighed in relief. But then Jack came bouncing back.

"If you happen to change your mind about the hugging–"

"Jack!" exclaimed Mr. Smith and Rose in unison.

"All right, all right!" Jack held his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going, I'm going! Geez." He then left again, this time for good.

"Are you okay, Bella?" Rose sounded concerned. "You have your mouth wide open."

"Oh," I said, closing it, blushing again. "But what was that?" I couldn't help asking.

Rose waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, nothing. Jack was just being his usual self–"

"Which is, if you care you translate, flirting with everything that moves and sneaking in dirty little innuendos in everyday speech," interrupted Mr. Smith dryly.

"Jack's bisexual," explained Rose in response to the confused and wide-eyed look on my face. I struggled to compose myself.

"Anyway, enough chatter," said Mr. Smith cheerfully, regaining his good spirits faster than I could blink. "Let's get out of this dingy forest."

We trekked out of the forest. I thought how weird a trio we were with Mr. Smith whistling cheerfully, a bounce in his step, Rose right behind him, chattering lightly, and me silent, lagging behind and listening to Rose.

I had ventured farther than I had realized. It took several minutes before we suddenly stepped into the hard concrete of the school parking lot, now empty except for my truck.

"Well, here we are," said Mr. Smith in his genial tone.

"Where's your car?" I asked, puzzled.

Mr. Smith and Rose stared at me, both wearing confused looks on their faces. Then comprehension dawned on their faces at almost the exact same time.

"Oh," said Mr. Smith, flustered. "It's…er…"

"We don't have to use a car," Rose cut in, and I caught Mr. Smith throwing her a grateful glance her way. My intuition flickered. "We walk instead."

"Oh," I said, though I was still suspicious.

There was a brief, awkward pause. And then–

"Well, got to dash!" Mr. Smith said cheerfully. "See you tomorrow, Bella!" And he dashed off so fast that when I blinked, he was already several feet away. Rose was still with me.

"Do-Mr. Smith! Wait for me!" Rose yelled after him, and then she turned to me. "Actually, I was thinking of inviting you to Port Angeles on Saturday–if you want to come."

I gaped at Rose, taken aback by her sudden invitation. Finally, I spoke.

"It's alright, you know," I said carefully. "You don't have to invite me out of pity. I'm fine."

It was quite the wrong thing to say. Rose looked shocked and appalled. "Oh no! I've actually thought of this before you…er….anyway, I am quite taken with you, Bella. So what do you say?"

I thought about it. Going out was never my cup of tea, but then I remembered Charlie's supplications about going out with my friends and I thought, why not?

"Sure," I said as enthusiastically as I could manage.

"Great!" Rose grinned. "See you on Saturday then."

"Rose!" Mr. Smith called, jerking his head on some other direction. Rose turned to me.

"Got to go. Take care of yourself." Rose smiled at me before running off. She was fast as well; she easily caught up to Mr. Smith in just a few strides and they both hurried off.

"Yeah, see you," I said, waving at them–and too late, like always, a small, barely perceptible smile spread across my face.

* * *

**A/N: So…how you like it? I know it's mercurial–first it starts off as lighthearted, then goes back to depressing, with a bit of suspense mixed in, then goes back to funny and it ends lighthearted enough. I would like to know what you all think, so for those who haven't reviewed yet–and for those who have–review! **


	5. The Man Who Cannot Die

**A/N: Hello, guys! Now, before you read this chapter, I have a few things to say in the matter of Jacob Black. I know there are a lot of you who love him and hate Edward and there are some who love him but still love Edward and there are some who hate him and love Edward (wow, that's a bit complicated…). In any case, I am one of the ones who hate Jacob, but love Edward. **

**I was hoping to put off this matter for another time, but since this is the chapter in which Jacob appears –gags–.I cannot turn the other cheek. Foreseeing the problems of Jacob early on, I have decided on this–I will not bash Jacob anywhere in this story nor make him OOC or make fun of him. I'm sorry for those who hate Jacob as ardently as I do and so I give you full permission to bash him in any way you please, via reviews. And also, JACOB WILL NEVER BECOME MORE THAN A FRIEND IN BELLA'S EYES! Yes, she won't fall in love with him, and yes, I can do that. It's AU, of course. Sorry for those who aren't pleased with that. Hurray for compromises! I am growing up to be a modern Henry Clay…**

**Ahem. In other news, thanks so much for the reviews! You guys are great! Anyway, R&R!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, I would've gotten rid of Doomsday. If I owned Twilight, Bella and Edward would marry, Bella would become a vampire, and Jacob would mysteriously die a horrible and terrible death. Or else imprint on a rubber ducky –evil smile–.**

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Four-The Man Who Cannot Die

I didn't know what the hell I was doing.

My foot applied more pressure on the pedal, and the car accelerated. I knew I was crazy, that what I was doing would be the most reckless and idiotic thing I've ever done in my life, but I didn't care.

I had decided to break my promise to _him_.

I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I remembered my long, solitary drive around town, thinking of Mr. Smith and Rose's odd behavior yesterday, when my mind suddenly veered off into uncharted waters.

Nearly seven months should have prevented me from being alone and having too much free time on my hands, but apparently not.

I was soon overcome by the pain and misery again, and I had to stop the car by the road. Only this time I was strong enough to resist, and I was able to think about my impossible situation.

I came to the conclusion that I was pathetic.

It was indisputable. First there was the hole. A sane, normal person wouldn't have big chunks out of their heart ripped off when their boyfriend left town. Then again, their boyfriend wouldn't be a vampire or the love of their life. But wasn't that the point? Shouldn't I be stronger than this, having hung around vampires all the time last year? To think that I _had _thought myself not as delicate before–now I felt like a single word would break me.

The second was of my own hasty promise to...him. I had never thought about it much before, but now I did. I also got to thinking of his own promise in return: _It will be as if I'd never existed. _And I realized, with a pang, that it was a promise he didn't keep, could never keep, and in the end, will never keep, not when there as any breath in my body.

As though he'd never existed? It was madness, an absurdity. Impossible, inconceivable…unthinkable, unbearable. Agony washed through me at the mere thought of it. I could never forget him even if I'd wanted to, even if I could.

So there is no longer any reason to keep my promise.

It was nonsensical. He already broke his promise almost immediately so why not break mine? I'm off the hook–no more promises, no more sitting here like a good girl. It was time to let the reckless Bella out.

As though someone up there decided to be good to me for once, I had encountered a pair of used motorcycles on sale at the Markses house. In fact, they gladly gave them to me for free. The trouble was that they didn't work, and taking them to Dowling's was out of the question. But I did think of one person who fixes cars, and maybe even motorcycles.

And so there I was, testing my truck's limit, going to La Push to meet Jacob Black.

I was driving along the road leading to La Push, the cloudless sky a dull gray, same as the pavement. I drove fast, eager to get to Jacob's house and break my promise.

When I saw him, it was too late.

A man, a black-haired man stumbled onto the road and I immediately hit the brakes. The truck's tires squealed in protest and I heard a loud _thump _as the truck stopped. I froze for one whole moment. No…that did not just happen…

I leapt out of the truck and around to the front of the truck. The man was lying there on the road, unconscious.

"Oh! I'm sorry, are you al–" I broke off, staring at the man's face in horror. It was Jack. I had run over Jack. I quickly bent down, and with shaking fingers I grabbed his wrist–checking his pulse.

I felt nothing. Panicking, I pressed my ear to his chest. I heard nothing. His heart wasn't beating. I let go of his wrist, and his arm fell limply on his stomach.

I've killed a man.

Oh my God!

Panic gripped me, along with fear and sorrow. My heart began to beat impossibly fast. It was an accident, just an accident–oh, who was I kidding? I was a murderer! My head whirled around, and I felt dizzy. The air suddenly became hard to breathe. I looked at Jack's calm face, his eyes closed.

"I'm sorry," I muttered at him, tears brimming in my eyes. "I'm so sorry."

What was I going to tell Mr. Smith and Rose? As much as they were exasperated with him yesterday, they wouldn't want him dead, I was sure of that. What will they think of me? Will I go to jail or worse–prison? I was too young to spend the rest of my life in purgatory! I stared at the corpse, indecision sketched clearly in my face.

Then Jack coughed. His eyes shot wide open.

I let out a yell, jumping up away from him. Jack slowly got up halfway up the ground, groaning.

"Whoa, my head," he groaned, gingerly holding his head. "What happened?"

I gaped at him wide-eyed. I was speechless. He looked up at me.

"Hey, you're that crying girl, aren't you?" Jack guessed, recognition in his eyes.

I nodded mutely. I couldn't speak.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, looking slightly worried. "You look very pale…and were you crying?"

And with that my speech reappeared and my temper ignited.

"Okay?!" I yelled, anger in my voice and my cheeks red. "I just ran over you and for a few seconds you were dead, and then you come back to life and you're sitting there asking _me _if _I'm _okay?!"

There was a long pause. Jack gaped at me for a few moments. Then he burst out laughing.

"What?" I glared at him. "It's not funny!"

Jack didn't listen to me. Presently, though, he calmed down.

"Listen," Jack said to me, residual laughter still in his tone. "I was not dead. I was merely unconscious."

"B-but I checked your pulse and I didn't feel anything," I said defensively.

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "You must've been mistaken," he said evenly. "After all, a person can't revive from the dead. It's impossible. Nah, it was just a bump in the head that knocked me out."

I stared at him. I was suspicious of him–I knew what I saw and felt, and I knew that just a minute ago he was dead. And yet Jack was right–it was impossible. People just don't revive from the dead. There was something strange was going on.

"I guess I was wrong, then," I said as evenly as I could manage, even though I knew that I wasn't.

Jack cautiously stood up, groaning slightly. He turned towards me, and to my surprise he was grinning.

"So I guess we haven't been properly introduced," he said. "I am Captain Jack Harkness. And what is your name?"

"Isabella Swan," I answered, taken aback by his sudden suave attitude. "But everyone calls me Bella."

"Ah." Jack raised an eyebrow. "Your name suits you." He flashed a bigger grin at me, showing neat rows of glistening white teeth. I stared at him in blank shock–I had hardly any experience in this area, but was he flirting with me? Just after I run him over with my truck?

"Um…right," I said, unsure of what to say.

"So where were you going before you 'bumped' into me?" Jack asked me, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I couldn't help it–I smiled at his lame joke.

"May I go with you to wherever it is that you're going?" Jack asked without waiting for an answer.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Well," said Jack, deliberating. "I have noticed that you have two motorcycles in the back of your truck. Since they look broken, I assumed that you were taking them to a mechanic to get them fixed or something. And if you are, I might meet some cute guys there." He flashed me an unrepentant grin.

I glared disapprovingly at him. "Sorry, can't let you," I said tersely.

"You owe me after running over me with your truck."

I was silent for a moment and then I sighed. "Well, can't argue with that. Let's go."

Jack beamed, looking visibly happy at this turn of events. "Lead the way, my beautiful swan."

He got into the passenger's seat while I took the driver's. For a moment I wondered why Jack had called me that ridiculous nickname but then gave up, deciding that I really didn't want to know.

* * *

"Bella!"

I felt a smile spread across my face as I saw Jacob run outside, in response to his board grin and the excited and jubilant glint in his dark eyes. I parked my truck and Jack and I got off.

Jacob had changed since I saw him last. The childish roundness of his face seemed to have gone and now his face was thinner, more mature. His black hair hung like curtains on the sides of his face, which was surprising–I've never seen his hair down before. He even grew again, his form more of a lanky teenager than a child's. His skin was still that pretty copper color.

"Hey, Jacob!" I called back enthusiastically–I realized then that I was genuinely glad to see Jacob Black. Jack looked at me through curious eyes, but I ignored him. Jacob went up to us, his grin fading a bit when he saw that I was not alone.

"I'm glad you've come," said Jacob. He turned toward Jack. "And who is your friend?"

I looked at Jack, uncertain, but Jack wasn't looking at me. He was staring at Jacob with an odd look on his face.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he said, flashing a smile I was beginning to recognize. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing yours?" I was half-expecting him to bow.

"Jacob Black," said Jacob shortly. He then turned to me. "So what brings you here?"

"Bella," said a deep, resonant voice. I looked past Jacob to see his father, Billy Black, come out in his wheelchair, looking much the same as when I saw him last.

"Hi, Billy," I greeted warmly, smiling.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness," Jack introduced himself, waving, still with his disturbing smile.

"My friend," I added hastily. It was a bit of a stretch, but what else could I say? That he's just a guy I've met only two times, one of which included running him over with my truck?

"Well, come on in," said Billy, wheeling back to the house, Jacob, Jack, and I following behind.

"I was right about the cute guys," whispered Jack in my ear. "Thanks for bringing me here, Bells."

I glared at him, though not with much heat–it seemed impossible to stay angry at him, even though my suspicions about his behavior toward Jacob and Billy were confirmed.

"That's my friend and his _father _you're talking about," I hissed back.

Jack merely shot me a cheeky, unrepentant grin. I caught Jacob glancing at us, a confused look on his face. We piled onto the living room.

"It's good to see you, Bella," said Billy, shaking my hand. "What brings you here? Is everything alright with Charlie?"

"Yes, everything's fine," I assured him. "I just wanted to see Jacob–I haven't seen him in forever."

Jacob perked up at my voice, beaming so brightly that his face resembled the sun. I mentally smiled at the thought.

"Can you stay here for dinner?" Billy asked eagerly.

"Charlie–" I started to say.

"Don't worry, I'll call him up now. He's always invited." I could sense Billy's desperation to have me here.

"It won't be like you would never see me again. I promise I'll come in often–so much that you'll get tired of me." If Jacob could fix the bike, he would also have to teach me how to ride it.

"Alright, maybe next time," Billy finally conceded.

Jacob turned to us. "What do you guys want to do?"

I saw Jack open his mouth and I felt a slight foreboding feeling–I quickly spoke, intervening.

"Well, what were you doing before we came here?" It was a leading question, as I anticipated Jacob's response.

"I was heading out to the garage to work on my Volkswagen, but if you want we can do something else…" Jacob suggested, trailing off.

"No, no," I said hastily. "Let's go to the garage." I saw Jack shoot me a curious look, but I ignored him.

"Okay," said Jacob reluctantly.

Jack and I waved goodbye at Billy before following Jacob to the garage. It was more like a couple of sheds that had been combined together. In the shelter was the automobile raised on cinder blocks.

"What kind of Volkswagen is it?" I asked him.

"An old Rabbit–1986, a classic."

"Whoa," Jack muttered. "That _is _old."

"Only about a decade or two," said Jacob, sounding a bit defensive. "But yeah, I guess it might be a considered old."

I shot Jack a be-nice look and he reciprocated it with an innocent look.

"Almost done," said Jacob happily, sounding self-satisfied. "My dad made good on his promise last spring."

I tried not to remember prom, in which Jacob had been bribed with money and car parts to deliver Billy's message. How unnecessary that proved in the end.

"Say, Jacob, what do you know about motorcycles?"

"Some." He shrugged. "My friend Embry and I work on his dirt bike sometimes. Why?"

"Because Bella has got a pair of motorcycles out in her truck and she was hoping that you'll be able to fix them," said Jack cheerfully, just as I was about to speak. "I think that she wants to keep it a secret from her father and Billy." He winked conspiratorially at Jacob.

"Nice work on subtlety, Jack," I said sarcastically, irked.

"You're welcome," replied Jack genially, missing–or ignoring–the sarcasm.

Jacob's expression ranged from being pleased about the challenge of working on bikes without parental consent and disgruntlement at Jack.

"All right, I'll give it a try," Jacob said finally, his dark eyes sparkling with delight–apparently, pleasure at working on the bikes overruled his displeasure at Jack. "So, let's get the bikes."

Jacob, Jack, and I eased around the house to my truck, sticking to the trees whenever we were near a window, pretending to take a casual promenade. Jacob and Jack unloaded the bikes and set them on the ground, rolling them quickly into the foliage. It seemed easy, almost effortless for them–something to do with the Y chromosome, I supposed.

We got the bikes to the shed.

"These aren't half bad," Jacob said appraisingly. "This one here is an old Harley Sprint–once I'm done with it, it will actually be worth something."

"You can have it, then," I told him.

"Really? You're sure?"

"Sure," I said.

Jacob smiled at me. Jack gave me an odd look that I could not interpret.

We got to work once we got to the shed–well, Jacob working and Jack making some suggestions, really. This seemed to annoy Jacob a bit and so spoke mostly to me. Jack, however, didn't seem to mind Jacob's coolness, merely whistling and sometimes looking at Jacob appreciatively.

Then Quil and Embry, Jacob's two friends, came. One was tall and slender, his chin-length hair loose. The other was short and burly, his hair so short it was almost a buzz. Both halted where they were at, taking in the scene–Jacob working on the red bike destined to be mine, Jack leaning casually against the wall of the shed and me standing between Jacob and Jack. They looked at me, then Jacob, then Jack, slow smiles spreading across their faces.

"Hey, guys," said Jacob half-heartedly.

Jack was off the wall and in front of them in a flash.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said cheerfully, shaking their hands. I inwardly groaned in dismay at seeing what I had mentally dubbed his "Jack" smile. "Bella's friend."

"I'm Quil Ateara," said the short, brawny one, who was looking at me.

"And I'm Embry Call," said the tall, slender one.

I shook each of their hands, and I think that Quil even winked at me, grinning mischievously.

"So, what are you guys doing?" asked Quil, and I think I heard a suggestive edge to his voice. Jack beamed brightly at this.

"Bella, Jack, and I are fixing these bikes," Jacob explained, stretching the truth almost past breaking point. Quil and Embry perked up at the word _bikes _and they swiftly hurried to examine them. They asked Jacob loads of educated questions–with even Jack putting his input–using a kind of unfamiliar jargon. The Y chromosome again.

Their boy talk continued and I decided not to follow what they were saying. As evening progressed, however, I realized that I had to go home in time to cook for Charlie. I sighed and Jacob looked up.

"Sorry, I guess we must be boring you," he said apologetically.

"You're not," I assured him. "I have to go before Charlie gets home."

"I better go as well," said Jack reluctantly. He looked longingly at Quil, Embry, and Jacob. "Or else I'll lose my only means of transportation," he added jokingly.

"I'll finish taking these apart tonight and figure out what parts we'll need to start rebuilding them," said Jacob.

"Can we come back tomorrow?" I asked; Fridays were difficult for me since there was less homework received.

"That'll be great." Jacob smiled brightly.

Quil nudged Embry in the ribs, both of them sniggering.

"I better go," I said, getting up, as did Jack. Be sure to make a list so that we can shop for the parts tomorrow."

"Sure." Jacob smiled.

"See you tomorrow," I said, moving towards the door.

"Yeah," said Jack fervently. "It's been a great evening." Again with that double entendre in his tone. He winked at them all before following me outside.

As soon as we were out of sight, there were two simultaneous "Wooooo!" and the sounds of a brief scuffle soon followed, including an "ouch!" and a "hey!" I dimly heard Jacob threatening them and repressed a smile.

"How fun was this?" Jack said delightedly as we trudged towards the truck. "Hey, Bella, can you hook me up with either Quil or Embry? Though I rather prefer Quil; I just love men with muscle. And if they're not interested, I always have Jacob…"

"Down, boy." I chuckled, too lighthearted to get angry. I haven't felt this good in a long time. "Besides, they aren't in the same boat as you are."

Jack merely quirked up an eyebrow. "When has that ever stopped me?" he queried cheekily.

* * *

**A/N: So…how do you like it? As for me, I like the beginning part just fine, but I don't like the other half of the chapter. Personally, I think it is boring having to write stuff that happened in New Moon and stuff. Oh, and if I used any of the lines from New Moon, it was accidental. I try hard not to plagiarize, but some lines just sneak out. I don't own those, by the way. Oh, and before I finish my incessant rambling, let me just write this:**

_**Jacob is a nut  
He has a rubber butt  
Every time he turns around  
It goes putt-putt!**_

**No, I didn't make that up. It was from the Simpsons (again, don't own that). And yes, it is childish and immature, but I just couldn't help myself. The temptation was there, and after writing from Bella's POV…**

**Ahem. Sorry for that. Anyway, review! **


	6. Him

**A/N: Hello, again! Sorry that I took a bit. As you can see, this chapter is longer than the rest. I don't like this chapter for this reason, and because there's loads of unnecessary, boring stuff that I wrote. Once you read it, you'll find that most of it is pretty boring. I think I should've skipped over some parts but it's a bit too late now. I don't want to keep you waiting any longer. So, without further adieu, here's the next chapter! Thank you for all your lovely reviews!**

**Disclaimer: C'mon guys, if I really was Russell T. Davies (creator of the NewWho, I think) or Stephenie Meyer, I wouldn't be here writing this. Nope, just a fourteen-year-old with mere aspirations of becoming an author. **

* * *

Daybreak  
by cto10121

Chapter Five-Him

Charlie was worried about me, and when I finally came home, demanded where I was. I told him truthfully that I had visited Jacob in La Push. It was just that sole little fact that managed to calm him down to hear the rest. I also told him about Rose's appeal to friendship, and also Jack's. I decided to leave out Mr. Smith, as I knew Charlie would think he was too old for me. In all, Charlie was more pleased.

It wasn't until I was in my room that the pain came. I was grateful that I was alone, and didn't have any witnesses to my disgrace. The warmth of being in Jacob and Jack's company didn't prevent the hole to seek out retribution for its temporary absence. As the hole ripped itself over and over, I gladly let myself sink into a restless sleep.

* * *

I went back to La Push in a disgruntled state of mind, purely because of Jack's dogged insistence in coming along with me. I argued purely out of Jacob and his friends' mental sanity–I didn't want them to lose their mental faculties in dealing with a flirtatious bisexual. But then Jack made this face and I felt all my defenses lower and my determination wavering and then breaking. Hench the reason why Jack was in the passenger seat next to me, again, whistling idly and randomly flirting and teasing innocently with me–well, as innocently as Jack could manage.

On way to Billy's house, Jack chattered cheerfully about his relation to Mr. Smith and Rose. It seems that he had bumped into them during their travels–it turned out that he was a traveler as well. I wasn't surprised to hear that he had initially flirted with Rose before flirting with Mr. Smith.

"I traveled 'round with them till we got in a sticky situation," explained Jack breezily. "Then they gave me the slip, which pissed me off. It was only just recently that I managed to catch up to them." He then gave me a cheeky, impish grin. "I believe you saw me give Mr. Smith his welcome and punishment."

I definitely remembered that scene in first hour English and I couldn't resist laughing. It was strange because I wasn't used to laughing–therefore the sound of my laughter carried a desperate, hysterical edge to it. I quickly cut it off.

Jack didn't seem to notice. "Finally, some laughter! I thought you would be stuck as a zombie forever."

I smiled weakly. I was getting a bit better, it seemed. Last night, after the interrogation, Charlie had seemed genuinely shocked at my light mood, though he'd tried to hide it. His manner was even more cautious than usual, though I could see that he was happy at my changed attitude–perhaps he thought I was going through a phase of some sort.

Even I have detected some improvement of what I was before. I didn't know if it was the presence of Mr. Smith, Rose, Jack, or Jacob, or if all of them combined was keeping me firmly in one piece. Even so, when I wasn't in their presence, I felt the hole more sharply and the nightmares continued, like last night. I would be kidding myself if I thought I was fully healed; it seemed that the hold would become a permanent feature in my life, becoming a part of the new me.

I pondered on the people that had brought about this change. There was, of course, Jacob. I've always liked Jacob ever since I've always liked Jacob ever since I first met him in La Push–well, before that, I guess, though I didn't remember much of the trips to La Push when I was little. He was great to be around and friendship with him was very easy and effortless. Quil and Embry were both funny and lighthearted, despite their assumptions about me and Jacob.

Then there was Jack–so flirtatious and bold, and yet so likable. Despite his half-teasing, half-serious advances, and his double entendres and innuendos, I felt quite comfortable around him. It was impossible to dislike him, for anyone to dislike him, really.

As for Rose…it was strange, but I felt a sort of kinship with her. It was rather ridiculous, seeing as I only met her twice in about two days. I don't know why I felt that way but I believe that my conversation with Rose had proven more significant than I had thought. As for Rose herself, well, she seemed like a nice, affable person to be around, though I don't know her much.

Mr. Smith was the one that I had the least contact with and yet I liked him. He was cheerful and good-natured, with the maturity of a five-year-old, judging by what he acted like in class. He was also slightly…familiar to me, though I was a hundred percent sure that I had never met him or heard about him before in my life. I couldn't put my finger on it; it was like a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that wouldn't go away. And also, despite his laidback attitude, easy-going personality and openness, I felt that he was a bit…mysterious. Something about his dark hazel eyes made me feel like there was more to Mr. Smith than met the eye. Also, I was a bit suspicious of him, Rose, Jack, and that blue police box of theirs. Something was off about them and I wanted to find out what.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Jack curiously. "You seem preoccupied."

I shook my head. "Nothing." Or at least, I hoped so.

* * *

Jacob was happy to see me, as always, but his jubilation was soured when he saw Jack with me again. What was worse, Jack noticed and instead of being discouraged like a normal person would be this merely amused him and continued to covertly flirt with Jacob. I was torn between amusement and sympathy for poor Jacob.

We were busy the entire day. First we went to the dump. I brought along my checkbook, fully intending to pay for whatever we need. Jacob protested vehemently when he found out that I was using money from my college fund but I put a stop to his objections–it was the least I could do since he's single-handedly fixing the bikes. Besides, I had no interested in leaving Forks and going to college, so what if I spent a little of it? Finally Jacob relented, but I could tell he wasn't happy.

Jack watched our interaction with laughter shining in his blue eyes, though I could not see anything funny about it.

After the dump we went to the Checker Auto Parts down in Hoquiam. Time passed easily with Jacob chattering lightly about his school and the caprices of his friends and though I was genuinely interested in what he had to say and asked a few questions, Jack was the most eagerly involved. He seemed to take particular interest in hearing about Jacob's male friends. I shot a few looks down Jack's way, but I don't think he noticed.

In Checker Jack started to drift away from us, eying the young male shopkeeper with a kind of eagle's eye. Typical, I thought as I helped Jacob search for the items on the list. But as it turned out, Jacob didn't only have the list on his mind.

"So," he began. "What's with Jack?"

"What do you mean?" I frowned at his question, even though I had a vague idea what Jacob wanted to know.

"I mean, does he like you or something?" Jacob asked with forced casualness.

I stared at Jacob, for a moment nonplussed. Jack, like me? It is true that he did sometimes flirt with me, but he flirted with everyone. And he hasn't shown any preference towards me or anything.

"No, I don't think so," I said truthfully.

"Oh." Jacob looked away. "It's just…I sometimes catch him looking at you and…flirting." The word fell uncertainly on his lips.

"Jack flirts with everyone," I explained. "He even flirts with you and Quil and Embry."

It was quite the wrong thing to say. Jacob's shocked look on his face made me laugh, light laughter still with that hysteric edge to it.

"You mean…he's…" Jacob struggled.

"He's a bisexual." I saved Jacob from the embarrassment of saying it. "It was kind of hard to miss when he kissed the new English teacher."

"What? He did?" Jacob's face was disbelieving. "And you have a new English teacher?"

I realized with a guilty jolt that I haven't told Jacob about Mr. Smith. I then proceeded to tell him about Mr. Berty leaving and of Mr. Smith and Rose arriving to town. For the first time I was struck by Mr. Smith's almost perfect timing–I stored that information away until I could further dissect it. I told Jacob everything except them finding me in the forest and the blue box–he didn't need to know my mental instability. When I told him about Jack punching and then kissing Mr. Smith, Jacob burst into infectious laughter, which made me laugh as well. We stood there laughing, while everyone in the shop stared at us as though we were a pack of hyenas.

I managed to calm down enough to see Jack coming towards us, tucking a small piece of paper into the pocket of his jeans, looking smug. His complacent expression became one of confusion when he saw our laughing gag.

"What?" Jack asked, confused.

That did it. We laughed ten times harder than before and this made Jack even more confused and also a bit angry.

Finally I calm down. "It's nothing," I assured Jack, residual laughter still in my voice. Jacob snickered.

Jack looked distinctly disgruntled. "You two are as bad as Mr. Smith and Rose," he complained.

Still chuckling over the episode, we managed to get everything on the list and then went back to La Push. Billy wasn't there yet so there was no need for cloak-and-dagger. Jacob went right to work after everything was laid out.

"You know, your hands are very graceful," Jack complimented to Jacob in a wistful sort of voice. "Your skill with your hands is fascinating."

Jacob looked instantly uncomfortable at Jack's praise and I tried not to enjoy his discomfort–much. I wondered if I was right in telling Jacob about Jack's sexual preferences.

The rest of the day passed by ridiculously fast and next thing I knew it was nighttime and Billy was calling for us to come in.

"Coming!" I called, motioning for Jacob to run out the lights. Everything was suddenly pitch black. I felt two distinct hands pulling me out of the shed. The one pulling my right hand was rough and calloused–Jack, probably–and the other pulling my left was warm and smooth. I was surprised to find that there was hardly any difference in size between the two. We tripped over ourselves in the 

darkness, laughing lightly, and even though I've been doing it all day it still felt disconcerting. We were still laughing when we arrived at the house.

Charlie was outside, his expression shocked as he looked at the three of us–or rather, at our linked hands.

"Hey, Dad," I said, smiling.

"Hey, Bella." I saw his eyes slit over my two held hands again and back. "Who is this?" He was clearly referring to Jack.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said, smiling, letting go of my hand to shake his.

"He's a friend of Mr. Smith," I added, considering the way Charlie was warily eyeing him.

"Oh." Charlie visibly relaxed. "That's great. Could you tell him thanks for helping us in the investigations? His effort is well appreciated."

"You mean there are still disappearances?" I asked, now genuinely interested.

"Yeah," Charlie said grimly. "Only now people have been seeing bears near the attacks."

"Bears?" Jack frowned slightly.

"Yeah. Some people think that they're the cause of the disappearances happening lately and there is some evidence…there's been blood on the ground." Charlie sighed, then brightened up. "Well, let's get inside before all the food gets taken."

Inside, Billy had made spaghetti, using his super secret recipe passed down to generations–in other words, Ragu. Harry Clearwater, his wife Sue, and their two kids came as well. Leah Clearwater was a year older than me, though she was a senior as well. She had a kind of erotic beauty–gleaming copper skin, shiny black hair, and long eyelashes–and the entire time she was there she was talking on Billy's phone. Seth was fourteen, and practically worshipped Jacob.

There wasn't room for all of us in the kitchen so we ate out in the yard, eating the spaghetti from the plates on our laps. It was loud and boisterous, mostly from Jack's part, who kept the jokes coming and the laughter going. Charlie and Harry made fishing plans while Sue tried to get her husband to eat something green and leafy by teasing him about his cholesterol–without success. Jacob mostly talked to me, with Seth eagerly interrupting whenever he thought Jacob had forgotten him. I sometimes even caught Jack talking to Charlie, smiling at him, and I struggled to hide my mortification and disgust.

The party was soon cut short by the rain and there was too little room inside to continue it. I didn't want to leave in the slightest and it was only with reluctance that I got up to tell Charlie that I had to drop Jack off. He didn't seem too pleased.

"Do you know where he lives?" he asked.

"No–I'll ask him, obviously," I answered.

Charlie grunted, but he didn't look as disgruntled as he normally would be. I guessed Jack's particular charm had worked on him as well.

Jack and I, after saying goodbye to Jacob, walked to the truck.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Well, you can–" Jack suddenly broke off, a look of sudden realization dawning on his features.

"What?" I was alarmed.

"Darn, I forgot!" Jack looked chagrined. "I was supposed to meet the Do–er, Mr. Smith and Rose and the school!"

"The school it is, then," I said, getting into the truck and starting up the ignition. I wondered briefly at Jack's slip, but I decided to dismiss it for now. "I'm sorry that I got you in trouble with them."

Jack waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, it's okay," he said, in a weak attempt to reassure me. "They'll only murder me. Or at least, Rose will."

I laughed but stopped when I realized that Jack wasn't laughing back.

* * *

"Jack Harkness, I'm going to kill you!"

"See, I told you so," Jack muttered to me. Even in the face of doom–namely, Rose's furious face–I detected a smug undertone.

The school parking lot looked strange and eerie at night, but perhaps that was because I was so used to how it looked in the daytime. I tried not to notice how empty and unfamiliar it was. Mr. Smith and Rose were waiting for us, Mr. Smith wearing a slightly disapproving expression while Rose looked impatient and, of course, furious.

"Rose, let me explain–" began Jack but Rose interrupted him.

"You've had us waiting for two bleedin' hours! What the hell were you thinking, if you were indeed thinking at all! You _knew _that the Do–er, Mr. Smith–" Rose shot a half-glance over to me before continuing and once again my intuition prickled "–wanted us to do a little more investigating over the disappearances, but nooo, you had to go gallivanting off on your own somewhere and having such a good time that you completely forgot about us!"

There was an awkward pause. I couldn't help it, I spoke.

"It was my fault, Rose," I confessed. "I got Jack involved with the whole issue about the motorcycles–"

"Motorcycles?" Mr. Smith's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas. "Well, why didn't you say so? Do tell!"

Rose groaned and rolled her eyes while Jack grinned widely now, certain he was forgiven for his absentmindedness.

"Um…well…you see," I began awkwardly; I hadn't planned to let the word _motorcycles _slip out. I was just so desperate to defend Jack that I hadn't watched what I was saying.

I told Mr. Smith and Rose about the motorcycles, but I edited the part where I had run over Jack and that he was dead for almost a whole minute before coming back to life. I told them about Jacob and even a little about Jack flirting with him (Jack grinned unrepentantly at this while Mr. Smith and Rose's faces looked unsurprised, if a trifle exasperated). I finally told them about the impromptu spaghetti party which had Jack running late.

There was slight pause in which Mr. Smith and Rose exchanged glances.

"I still think the motorcycles are the best part," said Mr. Smith decisively.

"Motorcycles, eh?" Rose raised an eyebrow at me. "Wouldn't have made you out as a rebel kind of girl."

I smiled bleakly. "There's a lot you don't know about me." Then I remembered what Charlie had said earlier. "I heard that there have been more disappearances."

"Yes," said Mr. Smith grimly. "And there seems to be no pattern to the victims taken, so I would say that it's not a human that is the cause of all the disappearances."

"Human?" I picked up on that word immediately.

"I mean, person," Mr. Smith corrected hastily, but it didn't appease my suspicions.

"I heard that most people think it's a bear," Jack added.

"Somehow, I don't believe it," Mr. Smith said thoughtfully. "A bit too simple, is it? A bear attack–what an utterly normal explanation. I've heard from a bunch of hikers that it was too big for a bear and the tracks were wrong as well. It is described as huge and black, and yet, nobody has actually seen the bear attack."

"But it has been spotted, has it, near where the hikers were last seen?" Rose pointed out.

"Yes, but the bear could've merely been at the wrong place at the wrong time." Mr. Smith's face suddenly lit up with realization. "Or it could've been at the right place at the wrong time…hmm…"

I watched the whole discussion through wide eyes. This didn't seem like three curious out-of-towners eager to solve a mystery, but three serious detectives going out of their way to solve the problem facing them. This looked too practiced, too thorough, too…real. Like it was all routine for them.

"What's that mean?" Jack asked.

"If you have to ask, then you don't know, and if you don't know, then I won't tell you," said Mr. Smith cheerfully. And then before Jack could argue the point more he turned to me. "So, 'nough said! What about the motorcycles, eh?"

"Yes," I answered cautiously, a bit taken aback at his sudden rapid subject change.

"Well…" Mr. Smith deliberated for a second, his hands in his pockets. "Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle?"

"Umm…" I hesitated. "No."

Mr. Smith beamed brightly. "Super! Then you'll need lessons. I'll be happy to oblige you in that respect."

Mr. Smith's proposition didn't just shock me–Rose and Jack stared at him incredulously.

"You…can ride a motorcycle?" Rose asked weakly.

"Yep!" Mr. Smith was still buoyant. "Rode on one once. Have to be well-rounded when you travel as much as I do." He winked at Rose and me. "So what do you say?"

I was uncertain. Sure, I thought about lessons, but the person that was on my mind was Jacob. Although I had not breached the subject yet, I had been thinking of Jacob giving me lessons as a bargaining tool to make Jacob feel better about me paying for all the parts.

Then again, Mr. Smith was older and more experienced. Perhaps I would learn better how to ride a motorcycle and perhaps not crash or get hurt as much.

"Sure," I said, though I couldn't help but feel a slight trepidation.

Mr. Smith grinned widely. "Lovely! Once the motorcycles are done, be sure to tell me, will you?"

"Sure," I said again, smiling weakly. "No problem."

"Well, got to dash!" Mr. Smith turned to Rose. "You coming?"

"In a bit," Rose replied.

"I'll come with you," chirped Jack. "You never know, there might be some cute guys."

"To you it's all about cute guys and daiquiris," said Mr. Smith in a complaining tone as they walked away, leaving me alone with Rose.

"You shouldn't have accepted his offer, by the way," Rose said with laughter in her voice. "I have a really bad feeling about this."

"Really?" I said dryly. "I thought it was only me."

We laughed together and in that moment I felt a growing fondness for Rose.

"So where will I pick you up on Saturday?" I asked her.

"Why not here?" Rose answered with a question.

"Well, that could work as well," I said. "So at what time?"

"Five will be okay for me," said Rose. "That way you can get home before it gets too late."

"Rooooooooosssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" We turned around and saw Jack and Mr. Smith several feet away, waving impatiently.

"I've got to kill Jack now," said Rose grimly as she slowly stepped forward in that direction.

"Have fun," I said dryly as I watched Rose chase Jack all around the parking lot, with Mr. Smith laughing his charismatic laugh.

* * *

That night, I reminded Charlie of the Port Angeles trip with Rose. He told me to have fun and I said I would. He was still a bit wary of my sudden change from zombie Bella to slightly-normal Bella. But even the warm, lingering presence of Mr. Smith, Jack, Rose, and Jacob combined didn't stop the nightmare from plaguing me again.

The next day I felt Charlie's gaze on me at breakfast. I didn't blame him–yesterday I was reasonably okay and today I was a mess again. I didn't think that I would have to start over from scratch, though. The thought of going to Port Angeles with Rose carried me through the day. I was actually genuinely excited to spend the day with Rose. I knew that it was mostly because of Rose herself than anything.

To pass the time at home I did more homework than anyone would think was healthy, but I had to keep the pile from growing somehow. Then I tried to study for Calculus but I could only look at math for so long. Faced with the gloomy prospect of free time, I decided to do chores around the house. I fell neatly into the tasks and by the time I left the house was spotless. Charlie would probably get a heart attack at my rigorous cleaning.

Rose was waiting for me in the parking lot. She was wearing black jeans with a bright red shirt.

"Hey, Bella," she greeted, climbing into the truck.

"Hi, Rose."

"What happened with your dashboard?" Rose asked, motioning to the gaping hole.

I waited for hole in my chest to rip open, but Rose's presence kept me nice and whole.

"Nothing," I lied. "I just removed the stereo–with my own hands," I added sheepishly.

Rose rolled her eyes. "No wonder you went to Jacob to fix the bikes," she joked.

During the drive we talked and laughed lightly. I marveled at how easy it was to talk to Rose, almost effortless. Rose was a very good-natured person to be around. Her stories about Mr. Smith and their travels were quite entertaining, if a bit vague. There was never an awkward silence with Rose around.

We arrived at Port Angeles in two hours or so, product of my slow driving. We went to the store I'd gone to with Jessica and Angela last year. It seemed like a million years ago. Rose was the one who tried out clothes and I the one who gave plenty of praise and constructive criticism–I didn't feel like shopping. At the register I helped Rose pay in American currency (she was used to pounds). For dinner I, being cheap as always, suggested McDonalds. Rose laughed at that, but surprisingly agreed.

The fast food restaurant was only a couple of blocks from the store so we decided to walk there. By then night had really fallen and the cool air pricked at my exposed skin. We were passing a loud, raucous bar and I suddenly caught sight of a man that looked slightly familiar…

I stopped dead at my tracks.

"Bella?" Rose looked at me, confused.

"Just a moment," I murmured. "I would like to check something."

I started to step towards the bar. The man that I had recognized was at a table with a group of friends, laughing boisterously at some joke. He had the same dark hair as him, the man who had cornered me at a street far from the populace, the man who had laughed and jeered at me and his cronies surrounded me, the man who had called me "sugar"…

It was like I was reliving the experience again. I felt the stiffness in my legs, the light sheen of sweat starting to form on my hands, the blood rushing from my face, the dryness in my mouth, the adrenaline pumping through my veins…I heard Rose calling me as of from a distance, as though I was underwater and could not hear her properly.

I stepped forward. The group now noticed that I was approaching them and fell silent, watching my approach. I didn't know why I was doing this, why I was so insistent on this. I should walk away, and forget about satisfying my curiosity about the black-haired man. It was sheer madness, lunacy…but I kept going. I even felt a thrill of excitement, though I knew it was irrational. But I had to know that the incident last year was real, that it did occur, and that it hadn't been a figment of my imagination.

"Bella, stop where you are."

I halted in my tracks, frozen. I froze because it was not Rose who had said that. I froze because I heard the voice in my head. But above all, I froze because I recognized the smooth, melodious, velvety voice that was ingrained in my memory, knew it as well as I knew myself.

"Bella, turn around and go back to Rose," Edward ordered.

There he was again, his voice perfect, his intonation and articulation beyond reproach. I waited for the pain, but instead I felt numb, shocked, and…happy. Impossibly, inevitably happy to hear his voice again, if only for a brief moment.

As I stood there, vaguely feeling the eyes of Rose, the group in the bar, and the people in the street looking at me, I contemplated on why this was happening. I came up with two reasons. One was, of course, insanity. That was the layman's term for people who heard voices in their head. Plausible. The other reason was wish fulfillment. My subconscious has decided to fulfill my longing for Edward to be here beside me, that he still loved me, or at least cared for me, and has come out with an approximation–thus, the voice. Probable.

I could see no third option, so I stopped thinking about it. Instead, I experimentally took another step.

"Bella, stop being so stubborn." The fury in his voice was lovely.

I took another step. I was just outside the bar now.

"No, Bella!" He nearly snarled.

"Hello, there," said the man, looking a bit confused as to why I had approached him. His friends eyed me curiously.

I scrutinized the black-haired man. There were some similarities but it was definitely not the man I was looking for. I felt my heart rate slow and the adrenaline stop. They weren't what I thought they were. They were probably nice guys. Safe.

"Want to join us?" asked the man.

I shook my head. "No thanks." Then I added, as they still continued to watch me, "From over there you looked like someone I knew. Sorry."

"Hey, that's alright," said the man breezily.

"C'mon and have a drink with us," invited a blonde-haired woman.

I shook my head again. "I don't drink."

"Bella!" I looked back and saw Rose run up to me. She took my hand and dragged me away from the bar. "What were you thinking?"

"Sorry," I said apologetically–I felt bad that I had made Rose worry. "I just thought I recognized someone…"

"You are suicidal." Rose shook her head. I looked at her more closely. She didn't look angry, only concerned–for my mental health, I supposed. "They could've been mass murderers for all you knew!"

"Sorry," I said again.

We went to McDonalds and ate there. Rose was didn't talk much, and I worried that I may have scared her away with my odd behavior.

During the drive we drifted into that same awkward silence, despite our efforts otherwise. The silence, however, wasn't awkward for long. It started out as a tickle in the lower region on the stomach, growing until we were fighting smiles, growing until we had to struggle to keep a straight face. Then we were fighting chuckles, then laughter, until we couldn't hold it in any longer and it burst out. The laughter lasted for quite a while, even though we had absolutely no idea what was so funny. It took a long time for us to calm down permanently.

"Why the hell were we laughing?" asked Rose breathlessly.

"I have no idea," I replied.

And with that, everything was forgiven.

* * *

**A/N: Hmm…what do you think? Again, I don't like it much at all, but it had to be written. And that last part…was I on crack or something or just plain crazy? Probably the former. Anyway, I can only know it this chapter was a waste of time by your reviews, so go ahead and press that lovely purple button and tell me your opinion! **


	7. Lessons

****

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the late update. This was an even longer chapter than before. I had to fit in a lot of stuff. Next chapter will be very interesting, though. Read and review!

**Disclaimer: Funny incident. Just a few weeks ago there was a phone call from the doctor's office. Here was the conversation:**

**Me: Hello?**

**Woman: Hi, I'm looking for Mr. Blank? This is a nurse from Doctor Who's office. **

**Me: He's not here. And since when did the Doctor get a nurse?! **

**Nah, just kidding, I did not actually say that. But it did happen, I swear! It was on the tip of my tongue to say that, but of course I didn't. Why is this incident at all relevant? It isn't, I just decided to tell you that instead of putting in a stupid disclaimer. I do not own the lines I used from New Moon, by the way (Jacob's little speech; sorry, I found it unavoidable). **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Six-Lessons

I wasn't sure if this was as a result of the voice or of my own newly-acquired masochistic tendencies.

Perhaps it was both. Hearing his voice again made me realize that the nightmare was lying–there _was _something to search for. He may be a thousand miles away, uncaring, indifferent, distracted…but _he _was out there, somewhere. I refused to think otherwise. More than anything, I wanted to hear his voice again like I had Saturday night. In that moment when his voice leapt up from a deep corner of my subconscious, perfect and velvety smooth instead of the weak pale echo my mind reproduced, I had not felt any pain. Of course, the pain inevitably caught up with me when I came home, but the precious moments when I could hear him again were an irresistible lure. I found myself wanting to repeat the experience, and the only way I thought of to do so was déjà vu.

But going to his house, where I hadn't been since my climactic birthday party five or six months ago? The act practically screamed out pain and torture. It was practically masochism. But the voice…I had to hear him again, even if it was product of insanity of wish fulfillment.

I began to worry if I couldn't find the house as I drove past the unfamiliar lane with its thick overgrowth. I accelerated, growing more nervous. What if there was no tangible proof? Where they really so apt in the act of disappearing that everything would be untouched, as if they didn't exist? Well, almost everything.

Then, to my relief, I saw the break between the trees, only it wasn't as pronounced. Gratefully, but with a slight trepidation, I turned into the break. The flora had grown out of control, the grass reaching to about waist-length, fluttering like sea waves in the breeze, the vegetation spreading to even the porch.

I left the truck running as I went outside to see the house more closely, even going as far as stepping onto the porch. The house was there amidst the undergrowth. Perfect, beautiful, and surreal as I remembered, but so…empty. Lifeless. I could see no lingering presence that they had lived here…that _he _had lived here. Its concrete proof, its existence, did not cancel out the emptiness of my nightmare, did not diminish my longing for the voice. I had no relief. I stepped forward experimentally, hoping that the simple action might trigger whatever the secret ingredient was that made me hear the voice.

Nothing happened. Disappointment crashed through me like an ocean wave.

I didn't step one more inch towards the house. I turned around and rant to my truck, hastily turning around and putting considerable distance from the house, the hole gnawing and tearing itself open again. I drove with one hand, the other clutching my torso tightly. In the midst of my despair I desperately longed not for Jacob but for Mr. Smith, Rose, and Jack.

Irrational, but I could see why I had this nearly overwhelming urge to see them rather than Jacob. Surrounded by Rose's warm personality, Jack's teasing nature, and Mr. Smith's cheerfulness, I didn't want to part with their company. Also, there was a strange kind of…connection, I suppose. It was strange, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that we had something in common, something that linked us together, even though we were all different. It was all insane. Jacob was one of my best friends. It was just in his nature to warm up everything in his surroundings, even me. He was like a sun–warm and constant. And yet…there was something missing, like a part of an equation, but I didn't know what.

It didn't matter. Disturbing them would be out of the question. I would just have to make do with Jacob. Besides, I promised to come to his house to work on the bikes anyway.

I suddenly felt disgusted at myself. Why was I thinking about Jacob and Mr. Smith, Jack, and Rose that way? They weren't painkillers or medicine that would magically make me better. They were people with feelings and it was wrong to use them for my own selfish means. But of course I would never think of them like that again. I loved their company and their personalities too much for that. It was slowly becoming an addiction, this dependency, like the numbness before–but I didn't care.

Jacob was waiting for me when I arrived at his house. The air was suddenly easier to breathe, and the pain subsided. My lungs too felt less constricted.

"Hey, Bella," he called.

I smiled. The sun again. "Hey, Jacob." Already I felt better. I waved at Billy, who was watching out the window. Jacob came bounding towards me.

"Let's get to work," he suggested in a low, eager voice.

"You aren't sick of me yet?" I asked wonderingly, as we walked towards the garage.

"Nope," said Jacob lightly. "Not yet."

"Please let me know when you get tired of me. I don't want to be a pain."

Jacob laughed throatily. "Alright, but don't go holding your breath for that."

We walked into the garage and I was stunned to see, instead of a pile of metal, my red bike standing up…actually looking like a bike.

"Jake, you're amazing!"

He laughed again, though sheepishly this time, embarrassed by my praise. "I tend to get obsessive when I have a project. If I had any brains, I'd drag it out for as long as I could."

"Why?"

He looked down, pausing for a bit. "Bella, if I told you that I couldn't fix these bikes, what would you say?"

I didn't answer right away. Sure, I've been taking advantage of Jacob and his underpriced mechanic skills, but in truth I really did enjoy his company. I could always ask someone…

"I would say…that's too bad, but we could always figure out something else to do, even homework if we get really desperate."

Jacob smiled, visibly relaxing–I realized that he'd been worried that I would abandon him as soon as the bikes were finished. "So you think you'll still come over when I'm done."

"As long as you let me come over I'll be there," I told him. And then I added teasingly, "And who knows? I'll even invite Jack along."

At Jacob's shocked, chagrined face, I laughed, drawing a scowl on his face, though his lips were twitching.

"Oh, please, spare me the torture," he said in mock disgust. I laughed again.

"If you don't want him to come, thought, just say the word," I offered reluctantly; in truth, I quite enjoyed Jack's company.

Jacob scrutinized my face a moment before answering. "Nah, he could come, though he'd better keep his hands to himself." The warning was not for me, but for me to pass along.

"Don't worry, he'll be on his best behavior."

Jacob kneeled down, picking up his wrench. "By the way, you didn't tell me what you're going to do with the bikes once they're finished."

"Oh." I felt reluctant telling Jacob but I didn't know why. "Well, I would ride mind…after getting lessons."

"Well, maybe I could give you lessons," Jacob suggested casually.

"Um…that's nice of you to offer, Jake, but I already have someone giving me lessons," I said mildly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "You remember Mr. Smith, don't you?"

"Oh yeah. The new teacher? The eccentric one?"

"Uh-huh. Well, turns out that he knows a bit about motorcycles and he offered to give me lessons."

"That's rather nice at him." Jacob smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'd never known a teacher who knew how to ride a motorcycle, though," he added teasingly.

"Well, if it doesn't work out, I'll be sure to go to you," I said, my heart giving a secret guilty twinge.

"Sweet." His smile widened.

* * *

By the time I got home it was later than I thought. Charlie had ordered a pizza instead of waiting for me to get home. He wouldn't let me apologize, insisting that he didn't mind and that I babied him too much. I knew he was just relieved that I was still normal Bella and not zombie Bella.

School Monday has its ups and downs. One of the ups was Mr. Smith, who was if possible even more funny and eccentric in class.

"If you guys want an A, you'll have to earn it," he said somberly before his face split into a huge grin. "Which brings me to my bargain: give me a banana and you'll get an A."

Everyone had laughed at that, including me, though I had a funny suspicion that he was being serious.

I also caught glimpses of Rose and Jack around the school at random times and places–in the lunchroom, in the hall, even outside. I wondered what they were doing but nevertheless I was glad to see them. Sometimes, when they saw me, they'd wave at me and I'd wave back.

The down part was my friends. Ever since my return to normality, they have split up in attitude. Angela and mike seemed to have kindly overlooked my few months of anomalous behavior. Jess was proving more resistant, and seemed to have joined Lauren to the dark side.

When I got home I checked my e-mail and there was a new e-mail from Renée, telling of her usual caprices and her various clubs. I felt a twinge of guilt when I realized that her e-mail read more as a diary entry than anything else. I quickly wrote back to her, telling her all about the last few weeks and my new friends. It was time to act like a daughter to Renée.

On Tuesday Mike was lively and verbose at work, like he'd stored up a semester's worth of chatter and it was all spilling out. I was able to smile and laugh with him, though it wasn't as effortless as it was with Jacob, Mr. Smith, Rose, and Jack. It was pretty harmless until quitting time, in which he invited me to the movies this Friday with him. I didn't want to ruin things with Mike, but this felt too familiar of last year. I told Mike that I didn't date, and he suggested that we could go as friends as a last-ditch effort.

"That would be fun," I finally acquiesced. "Only, how about next Friday?" I didn't know whether I would be free on this Friday.

"Sure." Mike smiled at me, pleased, but clearly less exuberant than before.

The next few days were spent in the garage, though on Saturday I invited Jacob to my house to do homework–it had piled up in the last week and we've both been neglecting it. Charlie went fishing with Harry, secure enough in my sanity to leave me alone with only Jacob for company. On that night, Jacob seemed visibly excited about something and it became more prominent when he promised to call me first.

On Sunday I was cleaning the house–waiting for Jacob to call and also trying to shake off my latest nightmare. The scenery had changed–now I was wandering in a wide sea of tall grasses and ferns surrounded by huge hemlock trees. I could've cursed myself for going to his house last week and so I buried the dream deep into my subconscious, hoping it would not resurface.

The phone rang when I was washing the toilet bowl and I raced downstairs to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Bella," said Jacob in a strange, formal tone.

"Hey, Jake."

"I believe that…we have a _date_."

It took me a whole second to grasp that and after the phone conversation I wasted no time in jumping into my truck. First, however, I had to meet with someone.

* * *

"The motorcycles are _what_?!"

"Finished," I said, grinning; I felt light as a feather with euphoria. "Which means _you _owe me lessons." This was directed at Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith grinned back at me cheekily. "That I do. Well then, I guess it's time I meet your boyfriend."

"He's not my/her boyfriend," Jack and I said simultaneously.

Mr. Smith and Rose both quirked up an eyebrow. The gesture would've been comical if I wasn't so keen on knowing how Jack could've possibly have known of my platonic feelings towards Jacob.

"How did you know that?" I asked him.

Jack shrugged. "I've seen how you look at him. I recognized the 'you're-my-best-friend-and-that's-all-I-think-about-you' look." Then he grinned. "Besides, he's mine."

I laughed, shaking my head ruefully. I had delivered Jacob's warning over to Jack and, instead of being discouraged, he became even more interested in him.

"Feisty, isn't he?" he had said fondly. "Just makes him even the more adorable."

"Jack, the boy is sixteen," Rose reprimanded. "So unless you want child services to be on your tail–"

"Alright, alright!" Jack held his hands up in mock surrender. "But really, it's just a bit of harmless flirting."

"When it comes to you, Jack, nothing is harmless," said Mr. Smith dryly.

"Once you're done making me into a pervert in front of Bella," grumbled Jack. "Can we go now to La Push?"

"You all want to go?" I asked them all, perplexed.

"Of course!" cried Mr. Smith. "I want to finally meet this Jacob person that you keep rambling about."

"I don't ramble," I said defensively.

"Well, whatever,' Mr. Smith said dismissively. "The point is, we want to come–that is, if Jacob doesn't mind."

"I don't have a cell phone, though," I pointed out.

"You can use mine." Rose produced hers, handing it over to me. "It has great reception." She, Mr. Smith, and Jack exchanged smiles as though enjoying some private joke.

"Um, right," I said awkwardly, calling Jacob. To my surprise, he sounded pleased and accepted the suggestion wholeheartedly. I asked him about it.

"I thought you would just take the bikes and then off you would go, never to visit me again," he joked, and yet there was an undertone of chagrin in his voice.

"Aw, Jake, of course I'm sticking around. So much that you'll get sick and tired of me, remember?"

"Alright then, we'll be there."

"'Bye, Bells."

I hung up and turned to the others. "He says it's okay."

"Great! I get shotgun!" Jack exclaimed excitedly.

"Man," Mr. Smith moaned, genuinely disappointed. "Why do you have to ride shotgun?"

"Because I'm more handsome than you are, and Bella likes me best," Jack declared, and then turned to me, his mouth slipping to a pout and his eyes growing doleful–puppy-dog eyes. "Right, Bella?"

I really didn't want to be put in this position. Before I could speak, though, Mr. Smith saved me the trouble.

"Don't listen to him, Bella," he told me. "He's only using you to get to Jacob. Besides, everyone knows that you like me best." He flashed me his cheeky grin. "Right?"

"Oh, quit it you two," Rose advised. "Tell you what–why don't you race and whoever wins gets shotgun."

"That sounds fair," said Mr. Smith and Jack nodded his assent.

A race? I shook my head at such childish tendencies, as Mr. Smith and Jack glared at each other in a vain attempt to act macho and competitive.

"Alright then." Rose had taken up the role of referee. "Whoever gets to that point–" She pointed across the parking lot, to the point where the cement ended and the forest began "–and back, wins."

Mr. Smith and Jack got ready, their bodies tense, their eyes fixed on that imaginary point as though it were the Holy Grail.

"Prepare to savor the bitter taste of defeat," proclaimed Mr. Smith in a melodramatic voice

"Keep dreamin', sugar," mocked Jack.

"Ready…set…" Rose began, but then to my surprise Jack bolted, with Mr. Smith hot on his heels. Jack, having that head start, got back first.

"That…was cheating," panted Mr. Smith. "Re-do!"

"No way," argued Jack. "I won, so that means shotgun!"

"Better not argue with him any further," Rose advised as Mr. Smith opened his mouth once more to argue. "Just give up."

"Fine." Mr. Smith gave in with poor grace, huffing. "Let's go then."

We got into my truck, Jack having shotgun and Mr. Smith and Rose in the back. Jack was positively radiating smugness from his person.

"My, don't you two look cute together," Jack said cheekily to Mr. Smith and Rose, both sitting at the back. They glared at him, their cheeks a bright pink.

"Be nice," I admonished him.

Jack flashed me his signature grin. "Anything for you, my beautiful swan."

There was the sound of hastily stifled laughter. I shot a reproaching glance at Jack.

"Why do you call me that anyway?" I asked. "It sounds very…gooey."

"It's simple," said Mr. Smith, and his tone turned teacher-like. "In two Latin languages the word _bella_ means 'beautiful' or 'pretty', depending on whether it's Spanish or Italian. It's a simple matter or combining the two and coming up 'beautiful swan'." Mr. Smith rolled his eyes.

I blushed. In truth, I hadn't expected that.

"Hey, I think it's cute," Jack argued. "And genius."

"Whatever you say, Jack," Mr. Smith said in a humoring tone.

Jack sulked for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Jacob was waiting for me, a bundle of excitement. In fact, he was fairly bouncing.

"Hey, Bella!" He didn't even wait until I was out of the truck before bounding forward.

"Hey, Jake," I greeted. "This is Mr. Smith and Rose–you know Jack already."

"Nice to meet you," Jacob said politely, shaking his hand.

"Lovely to meet you, Jacob," said Mr. Smith cheerfully, shaking his hand. I was surprised to see that Jacob's hand nearly dwarfed Mr. Smith's. I also noticed Jacob sneaking a glance at Rose and back again.

"Alright, let's go,' said Jacob excitedly.

He led us to the edge of the forest where the bikes were concealed. My glossy red bike and Jacob's black one were conspicuous against the foliage. There was a piece of blue ribbon on each of the bikes, which made me laugh. Mr. Smith wolf-whistled.

"These look nice," he praised. "You did a pretty good job of it."

Jacob's skin darkened, and he looked sheepish. "It was nothing," he said modestly.

We stuck mostly to the trees, quickly getting the bikes and loading them into the truck, getting gin. This time, though, Jack relinquished his position of shotgun over to Jacob reluctantly, though not without winking flirtatiously at him. The look on Jacob's face was priceless.

During the ride Jacob gave me directions and in the back Mr. Smith, Jack, and Rose were chattering animatedly. The road was smooth and long, the color of the gray sky above.

Then I caught sight of a boy on a cliff, only in shorts, thought it was freezing out. His body was tense and I automatically slowed down. Then to my horror, he flung himself off the cliff, almost gracefully spiraling in the air and falling.

"No!" I stamped on the brake. We all jerked forward.

"What is it?" demanded Mr. Smith, his voice urgent.

"That boy just jumped off the cliff!" My hand was on the handle of the door, ready to get up. "Someone call an ambulance!"

"Relax, Bella." Jacob was the only one who was not freaking out–he even rolled his eyes. But there was an edginess to his eyes.

"Relax?! He just jumped off a cliff and you want me to relax?!"

"Bella, Sam's fine. It's just cliff diving. You know, recreation." He shrugged.

"You mean you jump off of cliffs for fun?" Rose asked incredulously. She seemed just as shaken up as I was.

"Yeah." Jacob's irritableness became more apparent. "Most of us jump off over there–" He pointed to a break in the tress that seemed more reasonable. "_Those_ guys are crazy. Probably wanted to show how tough they are."

"Really?" Mr. Smith looked interested. "What was that boy's name again?"

"Sam Uley." Jacob still looked distinctly annoyed. "More of a man than a boy, I guess. He has a gang–well, not really. They don't go around bullying people or anything like that. On the contrary, they call themselves 'protectors' or something like that. Anyway, they are more like annoying hall monitors, really."

"Do they always act like that?" Jack gestured over to the cliff, where a second figure was seen gracefully leaping into space and falling what seemed like an eternity, finally cutting smoothly into the waves below.

"Yeah. They're always showing off. They act like…I don't know, tough guys. I was handing out at the store with Embry and Quil once, last semester, and Sam came by with his followers, Jared and Paul. Anyway, Quil said something, and it pissed Paul off. His eyes got all dark and he sort of smiled–no, he showed his teeth but he didn't smile–and it was like he was so mad he started to shake. But Sam put his hand against Paul's chest and shook his head. Paul looked at him for a minute and calmed down. Honestly, it was like Sam was holding him back–like Paul was going to tear us up if Sam didn't stop him." He groaned. "Like a bad western. Sam's a pretty big guy, he's twenty. But Paul's just sixteen, too, shorter than me and not as beefy as Quil. I think any of us could take him."

I remembered, as though they were memories from a former life, three dark, tall men in my father's living room from when I was…discovered. The picture was sideways, as I was lying against the couch at the time. Had that been Sam's gang?

"But it's like Bella said, they seem like annoying hall monitors," Rose pointed out, frowning. "So why do you look so upset?"

Jacob seemed utterly taken aback at Rose's sharp observation. He hesitated for a moment then sighed. "It's the way they treat me," he explained. "Especially Sam. He keeps looking at me as if he's waiting for something, like I'm going to join his stupid gang someday. He pays more attention to me than any of the other guys. I hate it."

"Who are they to make you join anything?" I was angry. It infuriated me to think that these so-called "protectors" were upsetting Jacob.

"That isn't fair," murmured Rose, frowning deeply.

"And then there's Embry," continued Jacob, everything pouring out in a rush. "He's been avoiding me lately. Quil too. Embry missed a week of school, but he wasn't at his house when we came to check. When he came back, he looked…freaked out. Terrified. Quil and I tried to get him to tell what was wrong, but he avoided us."

The pause became awkward and tense. Rose kept frowning and even Jack was listening, not at all his joking self. Mr. Smith was silent, listening carefully to Jacob with an almost pensive expression. His dark hazel eyes were sharp and I could almost hear the gears working in his mind.

"Then this week, out of nowhere, Embry's hanging out with Sam and the rest of them. He was out on the cliffs today." His voice was low and tense. "That was the way it was with Paul. Just exactly like it. He wasn't friends with Sam at all. Then he stopped coming to school for a few weeks and when he came back he started following Sam around like he's joined a cult. I don't understand what it all means. Embry's my friend and…Sam's looking at me funny...and…" He trailed off.

"Don't worry about it, Jacob." Mr. Smith spoke for the first time since hearing Jacob's explanation. "If I am right–and I am almost always right–then it's nothing to worry about. What does your father say?"

Jacob's expression became sarcastic. "Oh, yeah, that was helpful. 'It's nothing to worry about, Jacob'," he said, mocking the deep tones of his father's voice. "'In a few years, if you don't…well, I'll explain later.' What am I supposed to get out of that? I don't think it's some stupid puberty, coming-of-age thing. No, it's something else. Something's _wrong_." He bit his lip and I fought the urge to comfort him.

Mr. Smith actually reached over and patted Jacob on the shoulder. "You're right, it's not that," he said in his usual cheerful voice. "But if my hypothesis is correct, then it's nothing to worry about. Well..." He hesitated. "Then again…it might be something to worry about. Well, there's no 'might' about it. And considering how I'm very rarely wrong…well, like I said, don't worry about it."

Everyone looked at him in bewilderment.

"You know that we don't understand what the hell you're talking about," Rose pointed out.

"Yep!" Mr. Smith beamed.

Rose rolled my eyes while Jack laughed. Jacob looked a tiny bit better, though clearly baffled by Mr. Smith's confusing logic and the atmosphere relaxed. I turned to look at the cliffs again. My mind flashed back to how lithe and graceful Sam looked as he spiraled in the air.

"I'd like to try cliff diving." Everyone turned to stare at me incredulously. I blushed, regretting my impromptu statement instantly. But still, it was true.

"Bella, it's freezing outside," said Jacob, his tone questioning my mental health. He sounded like he was back to normal, though. "Maybe another day."

"Alright," I acquiesced, but the idea was still in my mind.

"First motorcycles, then cliff diving," Jack remarked in an awed tone. "Who knew you are a bit of a daredevil?"

* * *

We finally arrived at the place Jacob indicated. We were at the edge of some forest near the road, empty of everything. My ears rang in the utter silence. It seemed a remote enough place to test the bikes out.

Mr. Smith was beside himself with excitement. If I didn't know better I would've said that he was a child eagerly waiting for Santa Claus. Rose looked abruptly apprehensive, as though the thought of Mr. Smith giving me lessons was something to be worried about. Luckily, I didn't share her concern.

"I was thinking of letting you ride with me on your first time round," Mr. Smith told me in a chipper voice as Jacob and Jack unloaded the bikes.

"All right," I said, a sharp edge of trepidation marring my excitement. My stomach quivered, but with excitement or nerves? The bikes suddenly looked very intimidating.

"They seem to be in fine working order," Jacob remarked, his face also bright with excitement. All traces of tension in the past few minutes seemed to have erased from his features. He handed my red bike over to Mr. Smith. "See if they run."

Mr. Smith held the handlebars for support, suddenly slamming his foot down on the pedal. The motorcycle came alive with a guttural roar, making me jump in surprise. Mr. Smith got on, twisting the handle experimentally. The engine snarled beneath him. Mr. Smith's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. I stared at the bike with increasing trepidation.

"Oh, don't tell me you got cold feet!" Mr. Smith yelled jovially over the noise at my uncertain face. "Come on, you little coward, hop on! I know what I'm doing!"

I quickly discarded my nervousness. There was no reason for me to be so apprehensive. After all, hadn't I faced danger in the face before when a sadistic vampire tracked me down in Phoenix? I should be able to look death in the face and laugh.

My stomach wasn't buying it.

But really, I thought as I stepped forward to the bike. What's the worst that could happen?

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes wide like a deer caught on headlights. It was the voice again. _His _voice.

"Bella, step away from the bike," he ordered, disapproval heavy in his voice.

I didn't answer; I was too busy listening to his beautiful, smooth voice. But why the delusion now? It wasn't déjà vu, as this was the first time I've ever ridden a motorcycle. And the setting was unfamiliar as well. Could it be the danger, the adrenaline the motorcycle represented? I approached closer to the bike, testing.

The voice came back as planned. "Don't be ridiculous, Bella, and step away from Mr. Smith," he said once more.

In response, I merely seated myself behind Mr. Smith.

"Hold on tight!" Mr. Smith yelled excitedly over the roar.

"Don't do this Bella," he pleaded. It was almost impossible to resist–but only almost.

I smiled at Mr. Smith encouragingly. "Let's go!"

"No, Bella!" Edward snarled along with the bike.

Mr. Smith let go of the handle and the bike shot forward like a bullet, going at an impossible speed. The wind slapped at my face, my hair flying behind me. I was screaming like I'd never screamed 

before, so loudly that I couldn't hear the motorcycle's engine. The surrounding forest became a mere green blur, my eyes wide open, adrenaline pulsing throughout my body.

"I told you so," Edward murmured complacently.

"WHOO!!" Mr. Smith screamed as well, but in jubilation.

_I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die_, I thought desperately. Such was my conviction that his name tore through my carefully built barriers. _Edward, Edward, I'm going to die. I love you._

I wasn't expecting a response, but I got one. It was a mere whisper in my head, but I heard it loud and clear.

"I love you too, Bella," he whispered.

And in that second, even though I knew it was a blatant lie, that it was just my subconscious telling me what I longed to hear, what I longed to believe, I would've died happy.

Then I suddenly felt a sudden deceleration and the wind on my face decreased significantly. The bike slowed down until it stopped, lurching slightly. My stomach and my mind still continued to swirl dizzyingly.

Mr. Smith was gave a carefree laugh. "Now that was exciting!" I heard him exclaim, as though from a distance. "Did you enjoy it, Bella…Bella?"

I got off the bike, careening dangerously on the flat cement. My ground and sky seemed reversed.

"Are you okay, Bella?" He sounded worried. "You look green."

I stumbled of the road, my stomach emptying in the bushes. I still felt dizzy.

"I think you went a bit too fast," I heard Jack say in a mild tone.

"A bit?!" Rose sounded outraged. "If I'd known that you ride like a maniac, I'd've–"

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with my riding!" Mr. Smith protested vehemently. "Though I guess I was a little overenthusiastic," he added thoughtfully.

"Bella? Are you alright?" Jacob sounded worried.

"Fine," I answered weakly.

"I think that she didn't enjoy that ride very much." Jack's voice seemed to be full of repressed laughter.

Darn right I didn't–but I couldn't be angry with Mr. Smith since it was my fault for accepting his offer. And Rose did warn me. Besides–and this made every trace of anger disappear completely–I finally figured out the formula to my delusions and that made me almost delirious with joy. Such so that I considered riding again with Mr. Smith, though I knew my stomach wouldn't take it.

"You alright now?" asked Jacob when he saw me standing up on shaking legs. The acid taste of vomit was unpleasant in my mouth.

"Yeah." My voice was weak, hoarse. I tired clearing my throat, but all that achieved was a spasm of pain shooting through my throat.

"Well, no more rides for you," Mr. Smith declared in a decisive voice, as though he were a doctor. "I guess I have to settle for giving you the lessons."

"Um, actually…"

Everyone laughed at my obvious reluctance, including Mr. Smith.

"Have a little faith, Bella," said Mr. Smith. "I'm a right fine teacher even if my motorcycle skills are–and this is Rose's words, not mine–appalling."

"They are," Rose said defensively. "Speeding that way–almost gave me a heart attack."

"I don't know, Rose," Jack disagreed. "They looked rather smashing on that bike." He winked at both Mr. Smith and me.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Jack, that I'm straight and not to flirt with me?" Mr. Smith was a trifle exasperated. "And I'm pretty sure that Bella has no interest in you or in any one else, I'm sure."

I wondered how he could be so sure that I had zero to no interest in dating again and it clicked. I glanced at Rose who looked away from my inquiring stare. Ah ha.

Jack merely grinned. "Since when did that stop me?"

"Alright, let's start with the lessons now," said Mr. Smith loudly, obviously calling an end to the inappropriate conversation.

The first part of the lesson Mr. Smith taught me the names of the parts of the motorcycle, with Jacob helping him–some of the parts he didn't know he called the "thingamabob" or the "thingamajig" or even the "little doohickey right here". I had an insane desire to burst out laughing at these outrageous terms, but I restrained myself, knowing that I had to concentrate.

"And remember to hold down the crutch," Mr. Smith advised. "Don't let it go, because if you do the bike will shoot out like a bullet."

"Like you did?" I asked suspiciously.

He grinned unrepentantly. "I like to go fast."

Inwardly I felt a pang as I thought of someone else who liked to go ridiculously fast. I unconsciously gripped the clutch tighter.

"Good. Do you want to kick-start it or shall I?"

"If you do, I'll fall over," I said through gritted teeth, my fingers becoming numb from squeezing the clutch too tightly.

"Alright, I'll do it." Mr. Smith took a step back and suddenly slammed his foot down on the pedal. There was a short ripping noise and the bike swayed. Mr. Smith caught the bike before it knocked me to the ground.

"Steady there," he encouraged. "Rose, could you have your hand at the seat to steady it? Now, Bella, hold on to the crutch."

It took only two kicks before the ignition caught. The bike rumbled beneath me like an angry lion and I continued to grip the crutch.

"Whoo! Hear her purr," said Mr. Smith with satisfaction. "Alright, try out the throttle, very gently, now."

I twisted the right handle the tiniest bit. The bike snarled. Mr. Smith's grin became wider.

"Do you remember how to put it in first gear?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, go ahead."

A few seconds' pause.

"Are you okay?" Mr. Smith asked. "You look scared."

"I'm fine," I said shortly, kicking the gearshift down one notch.

"Fantastic," he praised. "Now, _very _gently, ease up upon the crutch. Rose, time to back away now."

They took several steps away from the bike. Jack and Jacob's faces looked eager.

"Wait, you want me to let go?" I asked, confused. "But won't I fly off the bike?"

"If you gently enough you won't," Mr. Smith assured me.

I began to loosen my grip, waiting for the voice. I wasn't disappointed.

"Bella, have you gone crazy?" the velvet voice demanded. "Have you developed suicidal tendencies?"

I smiled. It seemed that my Edward delusion had a sense of humor. The others mistook my smile for excitement.

"Go home to Charlie," he ordered.

"Ease off slowly," Mr. Smith encouraged.

The voice in my head growled against the snarl of the bike.

I loosened my grip a bit more. Suddenly, I was wrenched forward and I flew.

The wind hit my face fiercely like before, flinging my hair back behind me. Adrenaline coursed once again through my body and the trees became a wall of green. Everything was even more intense, more dangerous without Mr. Smith's presence, but I also felt something new. Exhilaration. I realized that I was enjoying myself immensely.

But it was only the first gear. I itched toward the gearshift as I twisted the handle for more gas.

"No, Bella!" The honey-sweet voice was saturated with fury. "Watch what you're doing!"

It distracted me enough to see that the road was starting a slow curve to the left and I was still going straight. Mr. Smith hadn't taught me how to turn yet. I knew I needed to stop so without thinking I slammed down with my right foot.

The bike was suddenly unstable, wobbling first to one side then the other, dragging me toward the green wall. I was going much to fast; I tried to turn the handlebars the opposite direction and the sudden shift of my weight pushed the bike toward the ground, landing on top of me, roaring loudly. It pulled me across the wet sand until it hit something stationary. My face was smashed into the moss and when I tried to lift my head, there was something in the way.

I felt dizzy and disoriented. I heard the bike and the voice in my head snarling, and also something else…

Then I heard a series of voices calling my name at different times. It surprised me how familiar the voices were to me. I heard the roar of Jacob's bike being cut off abruptly and I felt the mossy ground vibrate from beneath me. Suddenly the motorcycle no longer pinned me to the ground and I rolled over to breathe, catching sight of Mr. Smith, "Rose, Jack, and Jacob's worried faces.

"Whoa," I murmured. I could not share their concern. I was ecstatic, trilled. Forget cheating–finally figuring out the formula for a hallucination was much more important and I was thrilled to have finally figured out, thought the snarling in my head was long gone.

"Bella, are you alright?" Jacob looked anxious.

"I'm wonderful!" I enthused, flexing my arms and fingers and legs. Everything seemed to be in working order. "Let's try it again!"

Everyone stared at me as if I had grown horns on my head...or questioning my mental faculties.

"Er…Bella?" Mr. Smith cleared his throat. "Er, not to curb your enthusiasm or anything, but you got a great big gash on your forehead and it's gushing out blood."

I put my head on my forehead, feeling along the sides. Sure enough, it was wet and sticky. I could smell nothing but damp moss and that held off the nausea.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Of all the things to apologize you apologize for bleeding," Rose said exasperatedly as she helped me up by putting an arm around my waist.

"You have such an unnatural tendency to attract trouble," Mr. Smith said in a complaining voice as he took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around my head. I started to smell the blood creeping into the white linen and I breathed deeply through my mouth. "Well, I guess I shouldn't complain since I'm that way as well," he amended, smiling conspiratorially. "We'll have to drive you to the hospital."

"Wait, why can't you fix her up, Doc?" Jack asked him and I caught Mr. Smith shooting him a warning look. I frowned, wondering why he did that.

"Yeah," said Rose quickly. "Don't you know a bit about healing anyway?" She and Jack exchanged glances, as though sharing a joke.

"Wait, you're a doctor?" asked Jacob, looking hopeful and relieved.

"In a way, yes," Mr. Smith said in an uncharacteristically somber tone, his lips twitching fight a smile.

Rose and Jack burst out laughing and it didn't take long for Mr. Smith to join them as well. Jacob and I stared at them, confused. Finally they calmed down and Mr. Smith cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Private joke."

Put that way, I didn't even want to know.

"But either way, I do know a fair bit," said Mr. Smith. "I could clean up your wound right nicely."

"She'll probably need stitches, though," Jacob pointed out.

"I'm fine," I protested. "It's just a little blood."

Everyone decided to ignore me.

"Tell you what," said Mr. Smith. "Let's take the bikes back first and then go to Bella's house so she could clean up."

_Dispose of the evidence_, I rephrased.

"And Charlie?" Jacob asked.

"He said he had to work today," I informed him. "The house will be empty and that's when Mr. Smith will clean my wound before going to the hospital."

"All right," Jacob said reluctantly, his eyes tracing over the wound. I knew he didn't like the idea.

"Trust me," I assured him. "I bleed easily."

* * *

When I got home and looked in my bathroom mirror I realized that I looked worse than I felt. Blood oozed out of the cut, generously tainting my hair and my forehead. My clothes were dirty with mud and moss. I pretended that the blood was red paint, still breathing through my nose.

There came a knock on the door and a singsong, "Bel-la! Mustn't keep Dr. Gerandy waiting!"

I didn't have to ask to know who said that. "Coming, Mr. Smith!"

I changed quickly into clean clothes, making sure to dump them in my hamper. I gingerly placed the wet handkerchief on the cut, and it stung a bit. I got rid of most of the dried blood on my skin and hair. I went out of the bathroom. The grounding was deserted. I went downstairs to find Mr. Smith and the others waiting for me.

"Do I look like I tripped and hit my head on a hammer?" I asked anxiously.

"Um, I don't know, you look too good for that," said Jack, looking at me appreciatively.

"Quit it, Jack," said Mr. Smith and Rose in unison. They looked at each other and laughed.

"You look fine," Mr. Smith said reassuringly, forestalling Jack, who opened his mouth. "Charlie will believe it." He then motioned me to sit beside him on the sofa. "Now then, how about that wound of yours?"

"Where are your tools?" I asked. I could see no case anywhere nearby.

"Oh no worries, Bella." He smiled as he patted his large pockets. "I got it all right here."

I eyed his pockets warily. That didn't seem very hygienic to me…

But to my surprise, it wasn't bad at all. He dabbed my wound with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. I winced slightly at the sharp stinging, but Mr. Smith was so lithe and quick that I didn't have to wait long. The movement of his fingers was very graceful.

In the hospital Dr. Snow loaded me with an anesthetic. AS he work, he also answered questions by Mr. Smith (they let him and the others in the operation room, to my surprise). The questions were at 

first about the sharp tools to which Mr. Smith seemed excited about (I tried not to follow that conversation too closely). Then the questions started to get more serious and Mr. Smith started asking questions–in a casual tone–about the bears attacking the hikers in the woods. This time I listened, and I found out that two hikers had seen the bear just outside of town. It was big, humongous, but the tracks did not match a bear's, nor did it look like one–in fact, in resembled a wolf, but wolves simply didn't get _that _big…

I learned about the bear thanks to Mr. Smith's quiet, probing questions, but I didn't get a chance to hear more when Dr. Snow finished stitching me up. Also thought I felt glad to be out of the hospital, I also felt a mite frustrated, as though I was in the middle of a great mystery and I was interrupted. It was a strange feeling.

It was night when I dropped Jacob in his house and Mr. Smith, Rose, and Jack in the school parking lot (they are still stubbornly refusing to tell me where they really live). Charlie seemed to buy my excuse about falling in Jacob's garage, to my relief.

That night was not as bad as the Port Angeles' night when I heard the voice. The hole came back with a vengeance, but it didn't throb nearly as bad–though bad enough. I concentrated on seeing Mr. Smith and maybe Rose and Jack again at school–and of course the motorcycle lessons at Jacob's house. That made the hole and the familiar pain more bearable. The nightmare was terrible as always, but I also felt an edge of impatience as I waited for the moment in which my consciousness would grasp the terrible truth and finally send me screaming into consciousness. The nightmare could not last forever.

How very wrong I was.

* * *

**A/N: Nineteen pages! Can you believe that? It's only now that I realize this! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was a bit of fun torturing Bella (i.e. making her ride with Mr. Smith…poor girl) and I hoped that you enjoyed that as well. How sadistic I am! Anyway, next chapter will be very interesting…extremely so. You'll see…ha…**

**Ahem. Enough of my enigmatic babble! Please review. :)**


	8. Attack!

**A/N: This is it. The chapter. Didn't think I would update so soon, eh? Anyway, this chapter, though not as long as the others, is very significant, as you may have inferred by the title. The first part is boring, but the second…you'll see. So R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I have no legitimate claim to Doctor Who and Twilight. I do, however, have a legitimate claim on Edward Cullen. HE'S MINE, YOU HEAR?! And Bella's. We're sharing him. I got Bella to agree through blackmail and death threats.**

**Bella (rolls eyes): Yeah, right. Like I would ever give Edward to you. **

**Me (indignantly): Hey, I thought you were supposed to have self-esteem issues!**

**Bella: You're fourteen years old, for Pete's sakes! Even I can agree that you're not much of a threat…or any threat at all, actually. **

**Stephenie Meyer: Sorry kid. The only ones who own Edward Cullen are me and Bella. And I am in no way romantically involved with Edward, as he is my character.**

**Me (goes off to cry her eyes out at how unfair the world is to her) **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Seven-Attack!

It was bad luck when on next Wednesday, before I could get home from the hospital, Dr. Gerandy called Charlie to warn him that I might have a concussion and to check up on me several times at night. Charlie glared through my weak explanation of falling again.

"Maybe you should stay away from Jacob's garage for now," he suggested.

I panicked silently. I was afraid Charlie would ban me from the garage altogether, and I couldn't have that. It had been a marvelous day for my perfect delusion had yelled at me for five minutes straight due to my latest injury. Mr. Smith was an, er, eccentric teacher and so he was the constant worry of the voice. He even forbade me once from ever talking to Mr. Smith again. Mr. Smith was most definitely a contributing factor to my delusions, as he was trouble personified.

And so I grew dangerously dependant on my delusions and its causes. It was like a drug to me now.

"Um, actually, I fell on a rock while hiking," I explained quickly.

Charlie's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Since when do you hike?"

"I work at the Newtons' –with all the constant selling of nature's virtues, one does tend to get curious."

Charlie continued to eye me for a bit before accepting it. "Well, be more careful in the future, will you?"

"Why?"

Charlie's lips pursed and his expression turned grim. "The bear situation is getting worse," he explained. "There's been another sighting."

"You really think that there is some superbear out there?" I asked lightly, trying to dismiss it as a joke.

Charlie didn't share my nonchalance. "This is no joke, Bella. There's something out there. Please be careful."

"Alright, Dad. I will," I said assuringly, making sure to cross my fingers underneath the table.

* * *

The next day, when I went to school, I planned to talk to Mr. Smith after class to see what we could do to avoid more injuries. Charlie's astuteness couldn't have come at a worst time–just when I've discovered the recipe for my hallucinations. And besides, motorcycles weren't the only option. There had to be a plethora of adrenaline-fueled activities. The possibilities were endless…or at least for me they were.

I parked my truck in my usual spot and walked towards the school. The lot was fairly crowded, despite my punctuality and students were already walking towards the building. I vaguely wondered whether I would have time to talk to Mr. Smith before class without inciting suspicion. I knew it would look weird to the others if a student and a teacher were close friends.

And then I heard someone scream.

I stopped in my tracks, looking in the direction of the scream. Barely a second afterward there was a loud crash from inside the cafeteria and an animalistic screech. Faster than I could blink, everyone started running in the opposite direction, away from the cafeteria, screaming. It was complete pandemonium.

I froze in place, my legs paralyzed. I felt the adrenaline running through my body and my frequently-heard survival instinct telling me to run. But I couldn't–Mr. Smith was in there, and maybe even Rose…and Jack…

I had no choice. I stumbled forward in my haste to get into the building, battling against the direction of the crowd.

"Stop, Bella!" The perfect voice was back. "Don't go in, it's dangerous!"

Like all the other times I disregarded his warning. I kept running, tripping several times. I was almost to the cafeteria when I felt a hand grab me. I almost screamed then, but when I turned around it was only Mike.

"Bella! Where are you going?" He stared at me through wide eyes. "Don't go in there, there's a–"

I ignored him, shaking him off. I knew that he wouldn't understand, that he couldn't understand, that I needed to do this.

It was like the car accident all over again. Everything sped up, the adrenaline making my brain process information more quickly. I was in the cafeteria before I knew what had happened.

The state of the cafeteria made me stop in my tracks, shocked. The tables were just piles of mangled wood, broken beyond repair, and puffs of dust filled the air particles so that it was hard to see anything at first. But despite the clouded air my eyes landed on the vampire.

It didn't look like any of the vampires I've ever seen or encountered with, though. They weren't the golden-eyed vegetarians that the Cullens were, or the burgundy-eyed predators that James, Victoria, and Laurent were. Although it was the same pale skin and red eyes, the differences were so glaringly obvious. Its grotesque ears were a blackish, grayish color, huge and bat-like. The eyes were like a cat's, huge and slanting, the pupil nearly indistinguishable in the sea of burgundy. Its fingernails were long and sharp, like talons. The creature's teeth, when bared, were long and pointy, though nevertheless pearly white and gleaming. And–to my horrified shock–it actually had huge, large bat-like wings with that same disturbing blackish color. But to the factor that most separated them from the vampires that I've known was that there was nothing even remotely human-like in its appearance. Even its face was devoid of any humanity that the Cullens had. Its expression was wild, hungry…and particularly bloodthirsty.

In my mind it only took a second to process the appearance of the grotesque winged beast or vampire or whatever it was. For a few seconds I couldn't tear my eyes away from the creature, emitting earsplitting shrieks and flapping its wings agitatedly. And then I noticed that the creature was not alone. The shock in discovering the creature was nothing compared to what I felt when I laid eyes on him.

Mr. Smith was standing in front of the monster, his body curved into a defensive position in front of Rose. Their faces were not filled with fear or blank with shock as mine was, but rather with strength and determination. Then I noticed Mr. Smith grasping a strange-looking instrument shaped like a cylinder, the visible part of it a dark blue. I gaped at them wordlessly. What were they doing? Were they crazy? Run!

"I'll give you one last chance," said Mr. Smith slowly, deliberately, in a voice I've never heard him use. "Leave now and spare everyone or I'll have to stop you. Take it or leave it!"

The creature gave a high-pitch shrill, throwing its head to and fro, while its wings flapped harder than ever.

"Right, I'll take it as a no," said Mr. Smith, his voice a little higher than usual. "Rose, any ideas?"

It was then that my mind just snapped and I screamed. Well, tried to at any rate. My throat was too dry to get a sufficient scream out. All that came out was a soft cry, barely heard over the growls of the creature. So it was surprising when the monster turned its head and looked straight at me, nostrils flaring, teeth bared, wings becoming suddenly still. Those wild, red eyes were fixed on me, and if it was difficult to look away before, it was impossible now. I was caught like a bird in the eyes of a snake.

My delusion only had this to say: "Run!"

The monster let out a weird call between a roar and a keen as it sauntered forward to kill me.

"No, Bella!"

The cry broke me out of my trance and I looked at Mr. Smith. He pointed his weird instrument at one of the lights. It suddenly glowed a dark blue and made a kind of whirring sound. The lights immediately exploded and yellow sparks flew at the beast, which shrieked and cringed away, bristling. Mr. Smith took full advantage of the diversion and ran toward me, with Rose at his heels, quickly grabbing my hand and forcing my legs to regain motion.

I could hear the deafening cry of the monster but we didn't stop; Mr. Smith led us back into the forest next to the parking lot. Once in the forest we stopped to catch our breath.

"What…was that?' I asked between pants. "And why were you–"

"I'll explain later," Mr. Smith told me hastily, breathing heavily. "C'mon, we got to go!"

Go where? But I didn't get a chance to ask, as we were already running again.

"What about Jack?" Rose asked quickly.

"He's still at the school," Mr. Smith answered just as quickly. "Don't worry, he's safe."

"Safe?!" I nearly screeched. Safe with that monster inside? Was he mad?

"Jack can take care of himself, now come on!"

Bewildered, I nevertheless followed Mr. Smith and Rose, wondering where they were leading me. We went deep into the forest and I wondered whether…but it couldn't be…

But it was. When we finally stopped it was in front of the same big, blue public police call box I stumbled upon for the second time in weeks. I was slow in drawing the connection.

"Why are we here?" I blurted out.

Mr. Smith and Rose exchanged significant glances and then turned to look at me, appraising and weighing me with their eyes.

"Right then," Mr. Smith said cheerfully, his mood mercurial as always. "Bella, it's time you know our secret."

My heart rose to my throat. Despite the crisis, I suddenly felt a glimmer of excitement. My suspicions were finally confirmed.

"This box"–Mr. Smith gestured to it with his hand– "is mine."

"I don't understand," I said slowly. "How could you own a police box?"

"You'll see." And with that he walked over to the box and opened it easily, like Jack did last time. He gestured with his hand for me to go inside. I hesitated. "Go on, she won't bite."

She? But I decided not to question it. Instead I took a tentative step into the box and my jaw instantly dropped. It was a large, dome-shaped room, too large to fit inside a tall, though narrow box. In the middle was a kind of contraption sporting numerous buttons and controls, with a long narrow tube filled with a blue-green substance that moved sluggishly around, like one of those plasma lamps. It was grand, magnificent…and absolutely terrifying and unbelievable.

"It's–it's–it's impossible," I managed to say hoarsely. "Optical illusion."

"Nope," said Mr. Smith genially, moving to my line of sight, his voice reverberating. "No illusion, I'm afraid."

I couldn't control myself. I ran outside and there was the box, which didn't seem to change. I ran back inside. The room was still huge.

"How?" I could only say through numb lips.

"Not much a question of how," said Mr. Smith lightly. "It's only bigger on the inside."

I felt a light sheen of sweat covering my face. Only bigger on the inside? "What is this place?"

"This," Mr. Smith gestured grandly to the entirety of the box, "is called the TARDIS. Acronym for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. But I just call her the TARDIS. Everyone does."

"Her?" My voice was weak.

"Yep! She's alive," Mr. Smith remarked matter-of-factly, as though commenting on the weather. "Only the owner–that's me–can understand a TARDIS, though."

"You got that right." I jumped as Rose came from behind me, grumbling. "You hear that beeping? That's how she 'talks'."

I listened carefully and realized that Rose was right. In the center of the box I could hear a low but perceptible humming and several odd beeping noises.

"I hope I didn't hear that note of sarcasm, Rose," said Mr. Smith reproachfully. Rose simply rolled her eyes.

"But…what does it _do_?" I couldn't help asking. Everything they told me was unbelievable.

"_She_ does what she's named," replied Mr. Smith, emphasizing the _she _part. "She travels through time and space."

There was a slight pause. And then–

"That's impossible," I said flatly, disbelieving.

As soon as I said that the contraption in the middle of the TARDIS started beeping more frantically. Up close I could see the buttons and switches more clearly, close together and all in different colors, flickering on and off.

"She says that you're wrong," Mr. Smith informed me. He paused to listen to the second string of beeps. "And also that she likes you."

I blinked in surprise. "But–"

"How you are wrong?" finished Mr. Smith. "Well, you're not. After all, it's not _humanely _possible for a public police call box to travel through time and space. Like you said, impossible."

"Humanely?" I seized on that word.

Mr. Smith smiled. "You're quick," he complimented. "Now, can you figure it out on your own?"

I bit my lip, thinking. _Humanely_. The assumption behind the word was clear as a bell…but no, it was far too far-fetched.

"But you aren't a vampire," I blurted out, and I immediately clasped my hand over my mouth, inwardly cursing my stupidity.

Mr. Smith, to my astonishment, was unsurprised, as did Rose, though she merely quirked up an eyebrow. "You're right, I'm not a vampire," he said calmly, as though the word was used quite often in casual conversation. "But you're getting quite close."

I fell silent. Mr. Smith and Rose stared at me intently, trying to convey a message, but my mind was still coming up with a blank. Stress made my brain go painstakingly slow.

"Time and space?" I repeated with difficulty.

Mr. Smith finally sighed. "Come here."

I went to him cautiously, confused at what he wanted to do. Mr. Smith sighed again, closing his eyes while running his hand wearily through his messy hair. Finally, he opened his eyes and let his hand fall limply to his side. He looked more grim and serious than I ever saw him. His mysterious dark hazel eyes suddenly seemed too old for his young face.

"I hate to have to resort to such…blunt measures," he explained to me in a weirdly apologetic tone. "But we are running out of time and–forgive me–but you're slow today. So…try not to freak out on me, okay? Although of course you will."

I stared at him nervously before glancing at Rose. She looked as confused as I felt, though she nodded encouragingly at me. Her brows pulled together as she stared intently at Mr. Smith, as though trying to magically see the answer in his brain.

It was then that Mr. Smith did a strange and baffling thing–he took my right hand and placed it on the ride side of his chest.

"What do you feel?" he asked, and the way he phrased it made it seem like one of those trick questions. I heard Rose gasp in realization, but I didn't look back at her. I was too busy concentrating at what Mr. Smith was trying to tell me.

"Your heart," I answered calmly, waiting for him to get to the point. The thumping of his heart accelerated excitedly at my answer.

"That's right." Then Mr. Smith moved my hand to the left side of his chest. I let out a gasp that almost escalated to a shriek. I pulled my hand back instinctively, aghast, my face frozen in shock, my eyes wide. My breath came out in short spasms.

For I had felt a heartbeat pulsing just as fervently as the other one–a second heartbeat.

A second heart.

"Mr. Smith," I said slowly, my voice quivering. "What exactly _are_ you?"

Mr. Smith gave me a brief, ironic smile. "Not human."

* * *

**A/N: So how was this chapter? Do you think it came too soon? I hope you don't mind, because from this point forward it will be moving kind of quickly along now. Hopefully it will just be a couple of chapters before my beloved Edward comes back. Yes, I'm still claiming that. I can't help it, even if Bella were to come and strangle me for my obstinate persistence. Anyway, I know you all are wanting for him to come back soon, as am I. Please be patient, my beloved readers! And also, reviews are like food to me. Feed me! **


	9. Revelations

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! It's just that I recently realized that I'm not even done writing the next chapter in my notebook, though I have a lot written, so I dedicated into writing more. This chapter should be sufficiently long so as to satisfy, hopefully. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Doctor Who and Twilight. I do, however, claim the Master, the Phantom of the Opera (i.e. Erik), Tom Riddle, Sesshomaru, Harry Potter, and the bottom half of Edward as my own to stalk, daydream, and ogle at my heart's content. –Sighs dreamily– I'm so lucky…**

**Bella: EXCUSE ME?! I thought we agreed that you could ogle at Edward all you want as long as you stop stalking him and trying to kill me so **_**you **_**can have him. Oh, and you ****also have a piece of Jasper if Alice doesn't mind.**

**Me (remembering): Oh yeah…sweet! **

**Alice (seeing vision): WHAT?! NO STUPID LITTLE HUMAN GIRL IS GOING TO LAY HANDS ON **_**MY **_**JAZZ!**

**Me: Geez Louise and fiddlesticks! (Runs as fast as I can!) **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Eight-Revelations

There was a dead silence. I gaped, my face bloodless and my wide eyes shocked, at Mr. Smith, who stared at me expectantly, as though he was waiting for me to scream and run away, and Rose, who was staring at me nervously, surely expecting the same thing. I slowly sank to my knees, in blank shock, as though every one of my brain cells has been paralyzed and yet I could still think. I brought my knees and hugged them to my chest. I felt more than saw Mr. Smith and Rose cautiously sit down on either side of me, but I was too shocked to get away from them.

"What are you?" I could only repeat the question, my lips barely moving.

"I'm an alien," Mr. Smith replied calmly. "The last of my kind, the Time Lords. And yes, I know that sounds very far-fetched, but I'm not lying."

I heard Rose's breath catch and I caught her throwing an inquiring look at Mr. Smith, who gave a barely perceptible nod. I was too much in shock to pay much attention to my observation.

"You're an alien, who travels through time in space in his TARDIS," I repeated slowly, mechanically.

"Well, yeah, that pretty much sums it up," Mr. Smith said in a would-be-casual voice, but his eyes were still wary.

Everything hit me just then, like tsunami upon the shore.

"What the hell is _wrong _with me?" I suddenly yelled, my voice reverberating around the TARDIS or whatever it was.

Mr. Smith and Rose started at my sudden outburst, staring at me in confusion. I was sure they were expecting the yelling, but they were a bit confused by the statement.

"What do you mean, Bella?" Rose asked, puzzled.

"What do I _mean_?" I repeated incredulously, laughing hollowly. "I'm in love with a vampire, who has left me for good and is gallivanting around the world with his little 'distractions', my best friends are an alien, a man who, apparently, cannot die, and a girl who travels through time and space with said alien!" My voice became heavily laden with sarcasm. "Wow! How normal I am! I am the sanest, most normal person in the whole world!"

A little voice in the corner of my mind told me that I was a millimeter apart from having a mental breakdown. I ignored it.

"How much can one person take?" My voice faltered then broke. "It's sick, unhealthy to care so much for myths, legends, and conspiracy theories that tear off big chunks of my chest when they go about their mythical ways! Is there no sanity, no normality in life, is everything just myths and legends? Who next? Jacob a werewolf or Angela a witch?"

At the end of my rant, everything was silent. Mr. Smith and Rose were speechless for the first time since I've met them. They stared at me with odd looks on their faces, and I felt a blush creep up to my face when I realize that did indeed rant, something I haven't done for years.

"So…you mind that I'm an alien?" Mr. Smith asked tentatively.

I was silent for a few moments. To my surprise, the answer was a definite negative. It was a shock, certainly (after all, I wasn't in the practice of finding out one of my best friends was an alien) but know that I thought of it, I could see a tendril of logic immersed. After all, Mr. Smith was the strangest person I've ever met, and hadn't I been harboring suspicions, half-formed, but there nevertheless? There was just something about him that was…non-human, I guess I could say. Though he'd never once acted like a typical alien, I'd sometimes look into his hazel eyes (which, in the dim light, would look obsidian) and I would instantly be struck with the knowledge that I really didn't know anything about him. Mr. Smith was like an enigma to me, a mystery I was itching to solve.

I then froze as yet another realization hit me, like a bolt out of the blue. Of course! Hadn't I, beside his devastating beauty and magnetic personality, been attracted to Edward because of that same quality? Was that the reason Mr. Smith was so familiar to me–because he, like Edward, had a supernatural chord to them that I sensed and recognized?

Mr. Smith and Rose were waiting for my response so I set aside my revelation, for now.

"No," I finally admitted. "I don't mind _that _that much. You're still the same as you've always been. It's just…sometimes I wish that I wasn't such a magnet for danger and the supernatural."

There was a brief pause. Then Mr. Smith grinned widely and next thing I knew I was pulled into a very tight embrace.

"Bella, you are fantastic!" I didn't need to see his face to know that Mr. Smith was beaming. "A bit weird for a human, but fantastic!"

"Can't–breathe–" I gasped.

"Oops." Mr. Smith let go of me. "Sorry, so sorry. Got a little overenthusiastic."

"It's okay," I assured him once I got my breath back.

"Right then," he said crisply, jumping up and going to the console. "Onto the matter of getting rid of the vampire from the school."

"So it's a vampire, then?" I asked, watching him push a variety buttons and pull switches and levers.

"Yeah, but it's not the kind your familiar with," Mr. Smith replied. "They're an alien race called the Maleven, a kind of forerunners of vampires, only they sucked energy, not blood. Long time ago, a ship crashed landed into a newly-born Earth, way back when the first humans roamed around. A few tentative bites and they were hooked–forget other food, this new diet of human blood was much sweeter and preferable because of it contained the exact nutrients the Malevens needed to survive. Only problem was they were outnumbered, there were more humans than them. So when the humans found out about them they persecuted them. The Malevens, no matter how strong they were, were no match for them. And so when their numbers dwindled over the years they had no choice but to result to the one thing that destroyed them all, which is…?"

"Evolution?" Rose suggested.

"Exactly!" Mr. Smith hit several more buttons. "And so over the years the Maleven lost their alien-like appearance with each human they turned as human genes became dominant. Until…well, it became feasible for vampires to mingle among the humans."

"So what you're saying that vampires came from these Malevens?" I asked, surprised.

"Yep!" Mr. Smith said cheerfully, He flipped something and the monitor flickered on, showing the creature in the demolished cafeteria, but this time with a figure armed with some kind of gun that looked suspiciously like–

"_Jack_?" I was stunned.

"What is he doing?" Rose demanded rhetorically. "Is he mad?"

Mr. Smith, however, was jubilant."Nice going, Jack! He prevented the vampire from getting to the other parts of the school. As long as he doesn't harm it…wait, what is he doing?!"

For Jack decided to abandon his weapon and was casually approaching the vampire, a familiar friendly smile on his face…

"Oh, God, Jack!" I felt my face twist in a grimace of disgust. "That is just so–so wrong!"

"Jack, now is not the bloody time!" Rose yelled, as though he could hear her.

"Wait a minute…why is it retreating?" asked Mr. Smith asked, confused.

Sure enough, the alien vampire was actually backing away from Jack, as though it understood his advances, baring its razor-sharp teeth threateningly at him.

"Smart vampire," said Rose dryly. "Maybe Jack was doing it on purpose?"

"I could always put it on audio if you'd like," Mr. Smith offered.

"No!" Rose and I exclaimed in unison. We looked at each other and I had this crazy urge to smile at the absurdity of the situation.

The alien vampire backed away a couple more steps before suddenly flailing its wings widely, rising a few feet into the air before turning around and flying out the door and into the sky. There was a brief pause.

"Well, one's things for certain," Mr. Smith finally remarked, having recovered his good spirits. "At least we have discovered how useful Jack can be. The alien vampire might have escaped to its master, but at least it stopped demolishing the school."

He then looked down at me, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You can close your mouth now, Bella," he advised.

I blushed and closed my mouth. I stared at Mr. Smith tentatively, hesitant. "Mr. Smith–"

"It's the Doctor," he corrected.

I paused, sidetracked. "Doctor who?"

"Nothing. Just the Doctor. John Smith is my alias," he said cheerfully.

I glanced at Rose, who nodded.

"Alright," I answered slowly, still a bit dubious. I thought about my next question. "How old are you?"

The Doctor quirked up an eyebrow. "You know it's not polite to ask an old man his age?" he said dryly. "But I have been traveling for about 900 years now. So around there."

My eyes widened. Not even Carlisle was that old.

"Yes, I know what you're thinking." The Doctor gave a mock sigh. "I look way too good for my age. My tenth body is the epitome of youth."

"And just when I think your head couldn't get any bigger," Rose muttered, but I refused to get distracted.

"Tenth body?" My eyebrows were raised.

"Oh yeah," the Doctor said dismissively. "It's something Time Lords are able to do. When I'm at death's door, so to speak, or dying, I regenerate. That is, my body changes and my personality as well to create a whole new identity. Though in essence, I'm still pretty much me. This is my tenth body, and my best yet."

"Change?" My head was swimming, struggling to attain it all.

"For example," said the Doctor. "Take my ninth form, the one Rose first met. I don't like him in the slightest! He was so moody at times and plus, he used to call Rose a stupid ape! I mean, how mean is that? And he looked very ugly as well with his big ears and nose and bald head. I definitely like this me a billion times better."

"I liked your ninth form," Rose protested, actually sounded upset. "And why do you insult yourself? I mean, it's still you, isn't it?"

"Myself?" The Doctor scoffed. "Hardly. Each incarnation is like a different person, different personality, height, weight, everything. When the time comes, I just outgrow them. You're just biased, naturally, because you met my ninth form first. Now the incarnation I _really_ liked was my fifth form, though I certainly don't use jellybabies as my catchphrase anymore. Jellybabies aren't that great anyway, bananas are way better. Ooh! Why don't I make bananas my catchphrase? Don't get me wrong, I love allons-y–and I'm still hoping of meeting an Alonzo so that I could say it to him–but I think I must have loads more, don't you agree? And anyway, bananas are good. And marmalade. Bananas and marmalade. Ooh, they should be my new catchphrase! "Bananas and marmalade, Rose, the Daleks are after us!" Only I don't really like grape marmalade that much, only strawberry. Don't you hate it when you have to go to all that trouble to unpeel a banana? They should totally invent a naked banana. A naked banana! That's _hilarious_, don't you think? But I digress. The point is, I only like my fifth form and all my other incarnations are just snobs and pompous arses. My tenth body is a million times smarter, handsomer, cleverer, charming, good-looking, and wittier. So there."

I gaped at him through his speech, dazed and confused as he swiftly changed the subject at least half a dozen times. I exchanged several looks with Rose, silently asking her whether this was his normal behavior and in return I got a long-suffering look that clearly said yes, it is normal behavior.

"And not to mention that you have the maturity of a five-year-old," Rose finally spoke, rolling her eyes.

"It's not my fault that I'm simply more carefree than most people," sniffed the Doctor before turning to me. "So, Bella? Anymore questions?"

I snapped out of it as I struggled to come up with another question. But before I could think of one, Rose spoke.

"Wait a minute," she said suddenly. "During your ramble, you said something about falling in love with a _vampire_."

I froze, inwardly cursing myself for my slip. I should've known that Rose was too perceptive by half to forget about that piece of information. I hesitated, and the atmosphere of the TARDIS soon became abruptly tense. The seconds lengthened and my continuing silence seemed all the confirmation the Doctor and Rose needed.

"Well," the Doctor broke the silence awkwardly. "That explains why you were so blatantly unconcerned with the fact that I'm an alien. You've had prior experience."

But Rose was sympathetic. "Was he the one that left you?"

I managed to nod as the reminder of his desertion tore at the hole again, tearing it anew. To my intense embarrassment, I could feel a prickling in my eyes. I tried to blink away the sensation, but Rose wasn't fooled. She moved next to me and circled her arm around my shoulders as I struggled against the pain. I didn't want to have an emotional breakdown in front of them…again.

"Why did he leave?" The Doctor's voice was unusually soft.

I shrugged, trying to act casual. "Why wouldn't he? After all, I'm just a human."

I didn't look at the Doctor or Rose but I could feel them stiffen at my answer. I resisted the urge to look at them again.

"That's strange, because the only vampires I know that were here before were the Cullens," muttered the Doctor, half to himself. "And only one Cullen is single…"

He stopped abruptly as I winced at the name, also feeling a slight glimmer of surprise of his knowledge of the Cullens. I could feel their intense gaze on me and I knew that, somehow, they knew who the Cullen who left me was. There was a deafening silence in the TARDIS except for the low humming sound it–_she _was making. I realized that, through the haze of my pain, that the low humming sounded oddly comforting.

Then, I heard a loud bang as the TARDIS doors flew open and we all looked at whoever had barged in there. It was Jack, looking harried and disheveled.

"Doctor, Rose, I–" But he stopped abruptly as he laid eyes on me. His jaw hit the floor.

"We told her," the Doctor assured him. Then his eyes widened, suddenly turning toward me. "Say, how _did _you know that Jack can never die?"

I welcomed the subject chance, though I really did not want to answer the question. I blushed to the tip of my roots.

"I…accidentally hit him with my truck," I said quickly, my blush deepening.

"Really?" To my surprise, the Doctor grinned widely. "Good for you!"

Rose burst out laughing while Jack sputtered indignantly. I chuckled weakly, not managing to laugh due to the hole. The pain, thankfully, subsided into an unpleasant stinging.

"Oh, that's right, laugh at my expense!" Jack harrumphed and, with his nose firmly stuck in the air, walked back towards the doors of the TARDIS. Suddenly, the door snapped shut, all by itself, successfully hitting Jack in the nose. He yelled, holding his bloodied nose while the Doctor and Rose roared with laughter.

"Good one!" The Doctor laughed, and I had a slight feeling that he wasn't talking to Rose, Jack, or me. In the background there was a series of chipper beeping in response.

* * *

**A/N: I think I'll end it right here, on a happy note instead of a somber one. So what do you think? Oh, and I know that Maleven is a really horrible name. Though I can be very good at making up names it takes me a while to do so and if I'm forced to make up one out of the top of my head the results are disastrous. I'm sorry! To prove that I didn't just bang my keyboard together, male means "bad" in Latin. Good ol' AAS (Advanced Academic Strategies...nice class, though my teacher was a little bit intimidating). **

**Reviews are like cookies. I like cookies –smiles–. **


	10. Movie

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, guys. If any of you have managed to look at the top of my profile you would've known that from August 4****th**** to August 16****th**** (two weeks) I was out of the country, in Cali, Colombia (as in, South America). And when I got back, I was busy working on my next chapter to one of my stories. And then, of course, I started school. (First year of high school…they bombard freshmen with loads of homework, don't you know? Yay for me.) But in any case, I already had this chapter finished long before the trip; I just had to type it. Please forgive me and thank you for all your wonderful reviews! And also, thanks to miss.smartie for sending me that lovely PM (I am very much flattered).**

**Disclaimer: Really, how many times do I have to say it? A fourteen year old girl living in Texas is NOT the ideal candidate to own a popular British TV show and a widely sucessful vampire series! Although I may wish it…**

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Nine-Movie

Restoration of the cafeteria was well underway, though its progress was admittedly slow. Construction was set up and we were forced to eat our lunches outside, on the benches when the weather was nice–which was almost never. On the rainy days we ate in the gym, which was most of the time. Also, the incident caused a full-fledge panic around town. Forget man-eating bears–mutant alien things were a hundred times more scary and worrisome. As a result, people were afraid to leave their homes, though some firmly maintained that the monster was not real, which were the ones who weren't at the scene. Conspiracy theorists started popping out left and right and needless to say they let their imaginations run wild…which was why most of the theories struck closer to the truth.

I wished that Charlie was exempt from the state of paranoia gripping the town, but it was a rather impossible wish, as Charlie was Chief of Police and therefore having the responsibility of finding the alien and protecting the town. I panicked when I thought of Charlie and other people going out to hunt dangerous alien vampires, but the Doctor personally assured me that he wouldn't let anything happen to them.

The Doctor. Somehow, it was easy to think of him that way, instead of just Mr. Smith. After all, he wasn't an ordinary man–er, alien. Still, I could never get used to it, though it may be more of the fact that I was so used to calling him Mr. Smith. The shock in discovering that he was an alien had dissolved and I was more and less all right by the fact, if not insanely curious.

Also, after the revelation the Doctor, Rose, and Jack became more relaxed with me, as I felt with them. I knew the reason for it–for once I didn't have to pretend or keep a secret that wasn't mine to reveal, and I'm pretty sure that the Doctor, Rose, and Jack felt the same way. As a result, we became closer than ever. For once they were able to be open with me. I wished that I could be just as open to them, but I just couldn't talk about _him_. It was frustrating, especially since I thought I was recovering. Slowly, but still. To be proved that I wasn't as strong as I thought was disconcerting.

The others didn't seem to mind. In fact, the knowledge of why I am what I am seemed to double their efforts on cheering me up, which they did rather well. The Doctor and Jack were their usual funny selves while Rose began talking about the exciting places and times in the universe they've gone to, stories so amazing and unbelievable it was hard to keep in mind that they were real. One time, however, in the TARDIS, I suddenly remembered something Rose had said before, about the Doctor leaving her once. Rose had quietly explained the Gamestation and the Dalek invasion, how the ninth incarnation of the Doctor had tricked her and sent her home, how Rose, desperate, absorbed the Time Vortex to get back to the Doctor, revealing herself as Bad Wolf and accidentally bringing Jack back to life and therefore making him immortal. In the end the Doctor absorbed the Time Vortex from Rose, but his body couldn't take it and that's when he regenerated into the more cheerful, crazier version of the Doctor that I knew and loved.

Knowing the full story now, I felt all the more sympathetic towards Rose. But at least she knew that the Doctor was only trying to protect her and that he didn't leave her because he _wanted _to…because he grew tired of her…

Aside from that depressing story, Rose also told funny stories about their travels, which had us breaking a few ribs in laughter. With each laugh I felt the hole numb a little, and the pain became less so. Those times in the TARDIS were happy times, much like the times with Jacob were. I even made a little mental schedule in my mind, alternating between the Doctor and Jacob, the Doctor then Jacob.

School and home soon became distasteful to me, the former more than the latter. My friends became even more reluctant to associate with me, thanks to Jessica's blab, but at least Angela and Mike stood firmly by my side, though I suspected Mike rather disregarded the rumors, still hopeful about our "date".

"So what movie do you want to watch?" Mike asked me one day on Thursday in the hallway.

I didn't know what was currently playing (for once) but for once I actually had a way out of this predicament and I grasped the opportunity.

"Oh, about the movies, Mike. Since we're having a group thing, I was wondering whether two of my study partners could come along as well."

"Is one of them Mr. Smith?" Mike asked sulkily.

I quickly hid my chagrin. Rumors were circling around the school about me and the Doctor. By some means they seemed to have found out about our unusual friendship and…well…the insinuation was mild, but blatant. Imagine, an eighteen-year-old being _friends_ with a twenty-something teacher! Lauren and Jessica were, of course, the leaders of the anti-Bella movement and their vitriolic gossip circulated around the school, making school, for me, a living hell.

"No," I answered as lightly as I could manage. "But one of them is a friend of Mr. Smith. Anyway, how about it?"

I could see the inner conflict flickering on Mike's face before it smoothed.

"That's okay then." Mike shrugged casually.

"You sure you don't mind?" I asked him.

"I'm sure," said Mike, sounding far from it.

"Whoo-hoo!"

"Jack, stop jumping up and down like a little kid!"

Jack, as though adding some truth to Rose's words, stuck out his tongue childishly. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Jack," I said warningly. "I will only bring you if you _behave_."

Jack blinked innocently. "Don't I always?"

"What Bella actually means is to keep your hands to yourself," the Doctor said dryly. The TARDIS emitted a beeping comment of some sort and I was struck by how comfortable I had grown to feel in the TARDIS.

"What do you take me for, a flirtatious Time Agent with a one track one?" asked Jack with mock indignation.

"Ex-Time Agent," corrected the Doctor. "And yes, actually."

"Your lack of faith in me is very disheartening," Jack sighed melodramatically. "You'll see–Bella will have nothing but good things about me tonight!"

"Whatever you say, Jack," said the Doctor in that same humoring tone, making me and Rose laugh.

"That's it!" Jack jumped to his feet. "I challenge you to–to–to a duel!"

Rose and I gaped at him, not quite sure he said what we thought he said. The Doctor quirked up an eyebrow, looking faintly amused.

"All right," he readily accepted.

Jack looked taken aback. Apparently, it had been a bluff.

"All right then," Jack managed to say bravely. He stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. "After you."

The Doctor jumped up and, unhesitant, went out the door. Jack shot us a panicked "what-do-I-do?" look and Rose reciprocated it with a stern "you-brought-this-on-yourself" look. Jack glared and followed the Doctor out the door. Rose and I exchanged glances.

"What was that?" I asked her, mystified. "They acted like characters out of a badly-plotted, action-packed, testosterone-fueled kung fu movie."

Rose laughed heartily at my generous use of the hyperbole. "What do you expect? They're _boys_." She said it as though it explained everything, which admittedly did.

"So," Rose began. "How did Mike react when you told him about Jack and Jacob?"

"Badly," I answered truthfully. "Though he recovered quite well. Did you know that there are rumors around the school that me and the Doctor…" And I told her.

"_What_?!" Rose looked shocked and appalled before becoming angry and indignant. "Oh, the people in this town! But don't worry, Bella," she assured me, suddenly calm, an odd twinkle in her hazel eyes. "I have a plan."

She flashed me a very sweet smile and I suddenly felt a pang of what felt like fear. But before she could tell me of her formidable-sounding plan, Jack took the moment to come in, beet red around the ears and muttering darkly, with the Doctor following right behind him, radiating smugness from every pore of his being.

"So have you two finished showing off your machismo?" asked Rose dryly.

"Pretty much, yeah," the Doctor said cheerfully while Jack still sulked. "And little boy Jack here has learned never to challenge me to a duel again."

"What did you do to him?" I asked warily, though Jack did not appear to be harmed.

"Oh, he's okay," the Doctor assured me, second-guessing my thoughts. "Just suffering from a wounded pride and a bruised ego. As to what happened, I can't tell you–what happens between me and Jack stays between me and Jack."

Having been put that way, I didn't even want to know.

* * *

The next day I got to know what Rose's plan was. From morning to the end of the day Rose never left the Doctor's side, even in the classroom. She was seen several times linking arms with the Doctor and there were whispers now of Rose and the Doctor as a couple–which was what Rose had wanted to achieve, of course. I felt guilty for making Rose pretend for my benefit, but after observing the Doctor and Rose more carefully, the guilty feeling vanished.

They were happy together. In the times I've seen them in the hallways or at lunch, Rose was seen with a bright smile on her face, which meant that she was blissfully content. And I could see that the Doctor was happy as well, though with a perpetual look of confusion on his face. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle and his walk was even more buoyant than usual.

I marveled at the way the Doctor and Rose acted toward each other. And it wasn't just recently, either. During the time I've known them I caught them sneaking surreptitious looks at each other while the other wasn't looking. Rose had always talked about the Doctor in a warm, affectionate tone and the Doctor had always spoken very highly about Rose, sometimes even catching him with a small smile on his face, different and softer than the big, jubilant grins I was used to.

So I supposed that there was something more to Rose and the Doctor's not-so platonic relationship than mere friendship. I decided not to ask Rose until I was absolutely certain; confronting people was not my specialty. I had to deal, though, with a myriad of confusing emotions

The most easily recognizable emotion was joy, of course. The Doctor and Rose were my friends, and naturally I wanted them happy. I had absolutely no qualms about their coupling–when they finally realized their feelings for each other. On the other hand, the Doctor and Rose's blossoming relationship–the way they look or smile at each other–made the hole prickle in remembrance. How similar their happiness was to mine before Edward left! Romantic movies were nothing compared to those little moments of spontaneous romance that they seemed to share. Thankfully, those particular moments were few, almost never exceeding beyond friendship, though the attraction between them was painfully obvious. I ignored prickling and concentrated on being happy for them.

I didn't have time to ponder more on the Doctor and Rose's potential relationship, however, when the movie "date" with Mike drew steadily nearer and nearer.

Next Friday at school, I endeavored to try to squeeze out a few more details with Mike, such as exactly what movie we were going to watch.

"How about _Tomorrow and Forever_?" Mike suggested the current romantic comedy that was ruling the box office. "It got better reviews."

"Nah," I said decisively, a bit more robustly enthusiastic that I was vying for. "I want to go see _Crosshairs_. Bring on the blood and guts!"

"Okay," said Mike, but not before adopting a maybe-she-is-crazy expression.

When I got home from school, there was a very familiar car parked in front of my house. My jaw dropped in astonishment. Jacob was leaning against the hood, grinning ear to ear at me.

"You finished the Rabbit?" I nearly shouted, jumping out of the truck. "I can't believe it!"

"Believe it." Jacob's grinned broadened even further. "I finished it just last night. This is the maiden voyage."

"Doth my eyes deceive me?" Jacob and I turned around and saw Jack strolling casually toward us. Jacob looked a bit disconcerted with Jack's sudden appearance.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked, looking around for a car.

"Was around the neighborhood," Jack replied casually. "So, is this the car you've been working on?"

"Yep," said Jacob, his happiness and pride so great that it didn't diminish when Jack appeared. "So do I get to drive?"

"Yes," I told him, sighing resignedly. I could not beat that.

"Hey, that's not fair, I want to drive," Jack protested and then his eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, can I have shotgun?"

"I prefer not," Jacob was quick to say, and I laughed at the wary look on his face.

"Don't worry, he's promised to be on his best behavior." I shot Jack a pointed glance. "Right, Jack?"

Jack grimaced, which was answer enough for both of us.

We didn't have long to wait before Mike's Suburban pulled up in the driveway.

"Hey, Mike," I greeted. "You remember Jacob, do you?"

"Not really," he admitted. His eyes flickered briefly to Jack.

"Old family friend," said Jacob, and they shook hands, or tried to crush each other's fingers.

"And this is–" I began, but Jack interrupted, offering his hand to Mike.

"Captain Jack Harkness, at your service," he introduced, smiling. I shot him a warning look and he reciprocated it with an innocent one.

"Um…hi," Mike said awkwardly, shaking Jack's hand. Jack continued to hold Mike's hand until I cleared my throat.

"So will we be going in Jacob's car?" I asked. "He built it from scratch."

"Fine," said Mike curtly.

"Bella can have shotgun, while I'll accompany Mike in the back seat," Jack said cheerfully.

Needless to say, Mike wasn't pleased.

* * *

It was a long drive to the movie theatre, or it seemed like it to me. Although Jacob and Jack were as cheerful and funny as always, Mike was gloomy and sullen, an unwelcome member to our group. I almost wished that he didn't come. Jack, however, did not seem to mind Mike's coldness, and he often talked to him. I made sure to keep my eye on him for any type of Jack-like behavior.

We arrived at the movie theatre, Jacob handed me a ten-dollar bill.

"What's this?" I asked, puzzled.

"I'm not old enough to get in this one," Jacob said sheepishly.

"Really?" Jack sounded genuinely shocked. I repressed the urge to roll my eyes. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," replied Jacob.

I may have imagined the corner of Jack's mouth turn down in a pout.

In the theatre, however, we bumped into someone unexpected.

"Bella!" It was the Doctor, dressed in his usual pinstriped suit and trench coat, with Rose dressed in a dressy shirt and jeans. I didn't fail to notice that they were linking arms. "My, what a coincidence that we should run into each other like this!"

I inwardly snorted, turning to Jack. He seemed surprised, though not of the pleasant kind.

"Mr. Smith." Mike was taken aback at meeting his teacher, of all people, at the movies.

The Doctor grinned broadly at him. "Hey, Ike!"

"It's–" Mike suddenly broke off, shaking his head hopelessly.

"Hello, Mr. Smith," said Jacob warmly.

"Glad to see you, Jacob. Oh, and this is Rose, Rose Tyler," he introduced to Mike. "My date."

Rose's face burned at the term, though I was sure that it was meant to be innocent. Mike looked from the Doctor to Rose, seemingly satisfied.

"What movie are you two going to see?" asked Jacob curiously.

"_Crosshairs_," they said immediately.

I mentally groaned. Of course. Apparently, they didn't trust Jack as far as they could throw him.

"Why, so are we," said Jack, only he didn't sound pleased in the slightest. His eyes narrowed at the Doctor and Rose's innocent expressions.

"Why don't we sit together?" suggested Rose and I caught her eye–she winked at me.

"All right," I agreed readily. "We don't mind, right guys?"

Jacob and Jack said they didn't, though Jack sounded grudging. Mike muttered his assent, clearly not liking the idea of a teacher within earshot. We went into the movie theatre, with Jack glaring at the Doctor and Rose every few seconds.

In the dark theatre the Doctor and Rose sat in front of us, Jack and Jacob sitting on either side of me and Mike sitting next to Jacob. The movie did not disappoint. In the opening credits alone four people got blown up and one got beheaded. The heavy overload of blood and gore amused us to no end and we spent the entire time silently laughing at the macabre scenes and mindless violence. Mike 

didn't seem to be paying much attention. He just glared at the edge of the blue velvet curtains at the top of the screen, his face stiff.

It wasn't until halfway through the movie that Mike groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"Mike, are you okay?" I asked, alarmed.

"Just get me out of here" was his only reply.

We hastily stood up and exited the theatre, Jack and Jacob following us. In the bright lights Mike was a pale, sickly shade of green, a light sheen of sweat covering his face. As soon as we were out of the theatre, he sprinted to the boy's bathroom, Jacob following him.

"What's happening?" It was the Doctor and Rose, who had followed us.

"It's Mike," I explained. "He's sick."

It was then that Jacob came back, rolling his eyes.

"Is he okay, Jake?" I asked.

"Okay as in puking his guts out, yeah," Jacob replied bluntly. "What a marshmallow. You should hold out for someone with a stronger stomach."

"Oh I don't think it was the movie that caused poor Mike to be sick," said the Doctor good-naturedly. "Heard there is a stomach flu going round and if my memory serves me correctly Mike's been pulling some awful grimaces before he ever clapped eyes on the screen."

Having been put that way, I felt sympathy for Mike and a twinge of guilt that I didn't know he was sick before. I knew about the stomach flu going around that had many people sick, but I didn't know Mike had caught it too.

"You amaze me," stated Rose, shaking her head.

The Doctor shot her a grin. "Don't I always?"

"Puh-leeze." Jack rolled his eyes before continuing in a complaining tone. "Still, though, that movie was _gruesome_. I've never seen such badly-plotted, blood-and-gore stuff in my entire life."

Which was very long, I was sure; Rose had told me that Jack was from the 51st Century.

"Yeah, this movie sucks," Jacob agreed. "Who chose it?"

"Guilty," I said sheepishly, shrugging. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." It was better than a romance anyway.

Just then Mike, with perfect timing, stumbled out of the bathroom, his face ashen.

"Oh, Mike."

"Do you mind leaving early?" His voice was raspy and hoarse.

"Of course not," I assured him, helping Mike walk–he looked unsteady.

"So what do you think you have?" asked Jack with unusual eagerness. I think he wanted to prove the Doctor wrong.

"Stomach flu," Mike grunted. "Think I got it from Ben."

Jack shot an exasperated glare at the Doctor, who merely shrugged his shoulders as if to say, _What can I say? I'm a genius! _I suppressed a smile at their antics, focusing on getting Mike safely out of the theatre. Before we got out, though, Jacob made sure to get an empty popcorn bucket from a willing salesgirl, handing it over to Mike with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

"Please," was all he said.

The cool, wet air was a relief for Mike, who inhaled it eagerly with short deep breaths. Jacob and I helped Mike into the back seat of the car, safely armed with the popcorn bucket.

"You coming, Jack?" I asked, turning to him.

"As much as I would enjoy poking fun of Mike's illness," said Jack lightly, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I'm going with the Doctor and Rose, if you don't mind. That way it would be easier for you and Jake. And also because Mr. Smith here is shooting pointed looks my way, but I'm not supposed to tell you that."

The Doctor thumbed Jack smartly over the head.

"It's all right, Jack," I assured him, laughing. "See you, guys."

They said their goodbyes and left. Jacob and I got into the car, rolling down the windows to help Mike. I brought my legs to my chest, curling my arms around them. The icy night air made me shiver.

"Cold?" Jacob put his arm around me. It was surprisingly warm.

"You're not?" I asked instead, and he shook his head.

I was surprised. It was freezing. I brought my fingertips to his forehead. His fingers blazed under my fingers like an open fire.

"Whoa, Jake, you're burning up!"

He looked at me funny. "I feel fine. Fit as a fiddle."

I frowned, touching his forehead again. Jacob cringed.

"Your fingers are like ice," he complained.

"Maybe it's me," I allowed.

Mike groaned in the backseat, stirring. I heard the sound of vomit hitting the bucket. I grimaced, breathing through my mouth, trying to ignore the sound. Jacob checked anxiously over his shoulder to make sure his car wasn't defiled.

I drove Mike back home on his Suburban, with Jacob following. The ride back was quiet, until we got home. Jacob cut off the engine, but did not move.

"Bella," he said, uncharacteristically earnest and…nervous? "I…"

"What is it, Jake?"

Jacob said nothing. He ran a hand through his long hair, giving a shaky laugh.

"I was going to…built up to this." He laughed again, only it sounded as though he were laughing at himself. "But with Newton getting sick and all I didn't get a chance to. So I'm just going to come right out and say it." He took a deep breath, his ebony eyes boring into mine. "Bella, I think that our relationship has the potential to become something more." At the end of his sentence, he gently took his warm hand in mine.

I felt shocked at Jacob's sudden declaration, though it didn't last before guilt crept in. Did I encourage him too much? Did he get the wrong idea about us? I thought I made myself clear that I had–_couldn't_ have–no interest with him beyond friendship. I was second-guessing my actions, frantically trying to remember if I had acted in any way beyond friendship, but could find none. Well, if I didn't make myself clear before, I'd have to do it now. I felt something in me twinge at the thought of causing hurt to Jacob, but I had no choice. I had to make my position clear.

"Jake," I whispered. "I don't like you in… in _that _way…"

Jacob grinned. "Oh I know," he said cheerfully. "That's why I'm still going to try. Perhaps in time you'll change your mind. I'm going to be annoyingly persistent."

"Jacob, please…"

"It's that other one, isn't it?" he asked thoughtfully. The car was silent for a few moments until Jacob spoke again. "Say, where did you get this scar?"

His fingers traced the cool, crescent-shaped scar on my hand thoughtfully.

"Do you really expect me to remember where all my scars come from?" I said lightly, trying to block the bad memories from my mind. Jacob's presence kept me whole.

"I guess not," Jacob acquiesced, laughing shortly. Then he was serious.

"You will think on it, right?" he persisted.

"There's nothing _to _think about," I said truthfully. "Please don't. You'll only get hurt, Jake, if you try."

"Well, if I do, that's my problem," he said lightly, but I knew he meant it.

I sighed, knowing I'll get nowhere arguing with Jacob.

"Aw, c'mon, Bella," wheedled Jacob. "Cheer up. I know what I'm doing…well, no I don't, but I'm just making it up as I go along. You do like me, don't you?"

"Yes," I said.

"Better than anyone you know?" Jacob persisted.

"Better than the girls, too," I pointed out.

Jacob shrugged. "That's okay," he said. "As long as I know you like me best."

He then grinned his Jacob grin and I felt an answering one appear on my face. We sat in companionable silence.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" I finally asked.

"Well…" Jacob deliberated. "No, but…it's going to sound corny, I know."

"I don't mind. Just spit it out."

"Well…just know that you can always count on me. If you feel bad or–or unhappy–and I know you are often, so don't lie–just know that you can always come to me. I'm still your friend, Bella, and I swear that I won't make things…well, too uncomfortable for you." He wrinkled his nose in disgust at his words. "Gosh, that does sound corny. But you know all that, right? That you can count on me?"

"Of course, Jacob," I said. "And I do count on you, more than you probably know."

The bright smile on Jacob's face made me want to cut out my tongue. I should've lied, lied to keep from hurting him. The truth would only make him suffer in the end.

"That's good," he said. He paused, looking out into the cloudy night sky, and then frowned slightly.

"What's wrong?" I queried. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "Though now that you mention it, I do feel a bit…strange."

"Don't tell me you got what Mike's got!" I exclaimed, chagrined.

"I don't feel sick, I just feel…strange. It's probably nothing, though." But Jacob's strange look didn't waver.

"Okay," I said doubtfully, my hand hesitating at the door handle. "'Bye, Jake."

"Goodnight, Bella." Jacob said distractedly. I got out of the car as Jacob turned the ignition on and left. I watched the car disappear around the corner before going in, feeling a slight tinge of unease.

* * *

**A/N: I think that's a good place to stop, don't you think? Again, sorry for the late chapter and the lack of actual...stuff. I did have plenty of reasons, though, right? **

**Anyway, after this chapter, things are going to move very quickly now (I hope you guys are happy about this, because I am). I'm going to skip a lot of meaningless stuff and get to the heart of things. The reason I'm doing this is A) I want Edward to come in just as much as you do and B) There's going to be a great plot twist coming up and I'm feeling rather excited about that. So, yeah. Unfortunately, the next chapter isn't finished and ready for typing, I regret to say. And also with school, the updates won't be as frequent. Ah, school–taking up your free time and sucking every drop of your imagination. Got to love it, eh?**

**Please review! **


	11. The Meadow

**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay. Reasons are 1. Been working like made on my Harry Potter fanfic, long overdue, 2. Trip to Colombia, 3. Hurricane Ike (didn't do much damage to our house, but he effectively knocked out our electricity for approximately eight days. And to think, Hurricane Ike and Ike from my novel–whom I love dearly–share the same name!) and 4. School. Plus, I didn't get to write down the chapter due to Number Four and so I had to do it all from memory. I dearly hope this chapter doesn't suck. But anyway, R&R!**

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, Violets are blue, I don't own Twilight or Doctor Who, and neither do you! HA! **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Ten-The Meadow

I suppose, in all honesty, that it's my fault that I am going to die.

And no, I'm not being self-deprecating again. In fact, I reject that I have ever been self-deprecating in the first place. I know myself, and I know that I am simply not worth all the time people like Jacob, the Doctor, Rose, and Jack spend on me. Edward in time finally realized this and acted as he saw fit. I can't blame him for that, though I'm sure the hole in my chest will never be fully eradicated or filled. I was fully prepared for a lifetime of growing accustomed to its presence, but now I guess I never will.

It is strange how tightly we cling to life at the direst moments, while the knowledge of death chokes you, when you know for sure that you are going to die and there is nothing anybody can do about it. That cold, sick feeling in your lungs, that fierce, warm desire for life, and that adrenaline pumping into your veins–those are feelings and sensations that I've become acquainted with on a normal basis, but were still horrible to experience.

Not as bad as when Edward had…left me, though. No feeling could possibly be as bad as that. After all, the world couldn't end twice.

But it was stupid, ridiculous that I should feel panic and fear, when I've been in so many dire and dangerous situations, from tripping to getting tracked down by a sadistic vampire in Phoenix. Then again, I wasn't worrying solely about my own life at the moment.

Rose squeezed my hand tightly in reassurance and I likewise. At least I wouldn't die alone. We are going to die together, knowing that our true loves will, at least, be safe. That made the whole dying thing almost bearable.

I closed my eyes, my body bracing itself for the impact of death, and vaguely I heard, as of from a distance, a slight, familiar whooshing sound.

* * *

Jacob never called after that day at the movies, except for once–and even as he promised to call back, he never did.

Excuses, alibis, vague explanations–that's all I got when I called Billy to inquire. I had a suspicion that something was wrong with Jacob, but it was more a gut feeling than anything else. Whatever Jacob had, it certainly wasn't mono.

After many repeated calls and rebukes, my suspicions turned a dark corner. Jacob was avoiding me. He wasn't sick–or if he was, he certainly didn't want me at his house. My warning must have gone through to him and he probably thought to alienate himself from me. It was surprisingly hurtful to even think of it. But Jacob, I argued with myself, would've told me so if that were true. So what was it?

The absence of Jacob was very quickly reaping its toll. I had sorely underestimated my need of Jacob and the adrenaline. My nightmares started to crop up again–it was the same horrible, terrifying nothingness as before. The pain, too, started to come back again. Desperate, I sought comfort in the benign compatibility I had with the Doctor, Jack, and Rose, if not to seek answers for Jacob's strange behavior, to the point where I must've surely become annoying (even though they assured me that I wasn't).

Their reactions were all different. Rose took an optimistic approach; perhaps Jacob was simply busy or was still recovering from his sickness, whatever it was. There must be a really good excuse for why he hadn't yet. Jack, however, was the exact opposite.

"Want me to jump him for you?" he offered.

I was shocked to find that the question was not laced with any innuendo or double entendre and that Jack was uncharacteristically serious. The Doctor, however, managed to surprise me, as he often did. He mulled over what I had said for a moment before cheerfully telling me not to worry.

"Jake is absolutely fine," he assured me. "Don't worry so much, Bella. You'll get premature gray hairs."

"And of his avoiding me?" I prompted.

"Well…" He suddenly looked very uneasy. "Yeah, I must say, he is avoiding you…and I don't know how to get him to un-avoid you...wait, is that even a word?" He deliberated for a moment, then shrugged. "Eh."

Thus, wonderful advice from my time travelling, alien (well, just the Doctor) friends.

The days passed by so slowly. The hole was getting wildly out of control. There were times were I would hunch over and gasp for air. In an effort to get rid of thoughts of Jacob and to receive even a portion of adrenaline, I decided to accompany the Doctor, Rose, and Jack on the Maleven hunts.

The police were all extremely grateful for the extra help the Doctor and his companions provided in helping look for the alien (or aliens, if there were more). It was not every day an alien pops us and demolishes a school cafeteria. It was a bit exciting, to be honest, searching for clues as where the Malevens' whereabouts and more often than not finding them–a chip of a yellow claw, a huge black feather, claw marks deep in the ground, etc. It was dangerous enough so that the voice would come back and I would savor every last precious second it lasted. It made the search something to look forward to than avoid.

The Doctor, however, didn't like me going along such trips much. He didn't say it, but I could sense waves of disapproval radiating off from him. I knew he was merely concerned for my safety and so decided to space those out as often as I could. He liked it even less when Rose came along, but he too bit his tongue. Hard, I imagine.

So those days when my schedule was clear were the worst. The ferociously empty day ahead increased the chance of the hole ripping itself apart. I tried to look for anything to occupy my time.

Which was how I got an incredibly great equally and stupid idea.

Rose and I were hanging out in the TARDIS while the Doctor and Jack went out on the Maleven hunt. I was thinking of other adrenaline-pumped activities to occupy my time when I suddenly had a moment of inspiration. I instantly sat up, a plan forming in my mind.

"Er, Rose?" I'd asked tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"There's a…place I used to go," I answered carefully. "It's a kind of…meadow, but I'm not sure where it is exactly. If you're up to it, maybe we can find it together?"

Thus, my bright idea that turned out not-so-bright after all.

* * *

Rose, remarkably, was up to it. More than that–she was robustly enthusiastic. It was strange how quickly her feelings grew from polite curiosity to wholehearted endeavor in such a short time.

Perhaps it was the description of the meadow itself. I _may _have waxed poetic about it. Or perhaps she might have sensed the wistfulness in my voice and wondered whether the meadow was important to me. Either way, she was all for going.

In any case, whenever we had time we went meadow-hunting. I remembered the direction _he _and I went, as well as the location, but after that was anybody's guess. Rose, however, turned out to have a curiously good sense of orientation. Perhaps it was gained through spending time with the Doctor and their travels to many foreign planets, places, and times.

It was an erratic time. Most of time and everything else always seem to move so sluggishly. My worry for Jacob was increasing expeditiously by the day and the hole would, at times, make itself known in my chest, as a grim reminder that although things have bettered for me, nothing could possibly stop me from feeling the same empty pain over my loss. I tried hard to keep my schedule occupied, and mostly succeeded.

And then, of course, there was the meadow.

* * *

Jacob still didn't call. My barely revived hopes plummeted once again. Charlie informed me that he saw him with his friends when he drove up to the Clearwaters'. He remarked that he'd seemed upset and that he looked different. This gave me something of a foreboding feeling in the pit of my stomach, though I didn't know why.

The Doctor and Jack were all out, I assumed, on the Maleven hunt, Rose having decided to stay behind. I fed Charlie a pretext about going over to Jessica's house to do homework, feeling that guilty twinge at lying to him. Charlie, however, was preparing to go fishing with Harry and didn't notice my preoccupation.

I met Rose at the TARDIS as per usual, and together we drove on the familiar dirt road. It was a cloudy, though dry day–one of those rare nice days. Rose examined the compass and the markings we made of our makeshift map and determined what direction we had to go, taking much less time than–I'm sure–I would've taken.

The forest was vivacious today, most likely because of the dryness, though no less creepy. Somehow, the cawing of birds, the rustling of leaves, the occasional scurry of mice and squirrels seem to enhance that feeling. It was strange, as Rose was with me; usually the soft padding of another pair of feet on the moist ground and Rose's natural good-natured chatter comforted me and distracted me from whatever apprehension I felt in venturing into the forest.

The uneasy feeling I had only seemed to grow expeditiously as we ventured deeper and deeper into the forest, the thin red line on our map the only guidance we had. I was surprised to feel the hole getting agitated–my breathing quickened, even as Rose's presence numbed the pain like painkillers. I wasn't even aware of how quickly we were moving and how efficiently we covered ground. I assumed we'd covered maybe four miles or so, and I was under the assumption that it was much farther than that. So it came as a shock when, after Rose and I passed through a grassy arch made by two adjoining branches, it was there.

The meadow was just as I remembered it, although of course the sun was this time hidden behind the opaque expanse of clouds. I was sure that no other meadow would have such perfect symmetry, could be naturally made in a flawless circle, the tall light green grass waving lightly in the wind. It was not as dazzling without the sunlight, but it still was very beautiful in that quiet, serene way–I heard a stream bubbling quietly in the east. I heard Rose give an awed gasp.

"This is it, isn't it?" she asked quietly, refusing to raise her voice and disturb the serene quiet.

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. Instantaneous disappointment was crushing me and my head started to swirl dizzily. The hole came back with a vengeance, tearing at the edges. It was the same meadow, but the magic was lacking–it was bereft of everything of significance. The meadow's significance was nothing without _him_. There wasn't even a lingering imprint of a memory here.

It was empty.

And I couldn't stand it.

"Bella!" Rose gasped, seeing me suddenly go down to my knees, curling up into a ball. The breaths came in sudden pants.

"I'm fine," I gasped, the hole contracting inside of me, burning like a red-hot iron.

"Bella, when will you ever stop lying?" Rose said impatiently, but with palpable concern underlying her tone. "You're clearly not all right–"

She broke off when I struggled to my feet, using her hand for support, struggling against the pain that threatened to cripple me. At that same moment, a figure about thirty paces away stepped out from the trees to the north and Rose stiffened in surprise.

I was overwhelmed over by a dizzying myriad of emotions, each passing as swiftly as they came. Surprise, then a fierce, rushing, dangerous hope; fear, for I knew that the figure in front of me wasn't an ordinary man, and then, finally, recognition.

"Laurent!" I cried, irrational, surprised pleasure evident in my tone. I should've stopped at fear, but I couldn't help the satisfaction that coursed through me; the meadow had restored its precious magic, though it was of a darker kind. I felt Rose give me a sharp glance, but I didn't meet her eyes.

"Bella?" Laurent looked more astonished than I felt.

"You remember," I said, my face relaxing, a smile blossoming on my lips. How strange that I should feel elation at the fact that a vampire remembered my name.

Likewise, he grinned. "I didn't expect you here," he said, strolling towards me, his expression bemused.

"Isn't it the other way around? I do live here. I thought you'd gone to Alaska."

Laurent stopped about two feet away, cocking his head to the side. I couldn't believe how much the _same_ he looked. Of course, it was silly expecting some sort of change from a vampire, but still, there was something I couldn't quite put my finger on…

"Yes," he agreed. "I did go to Alaska. Still…" He trailed off, suddenly seeing Rose. "Say, who's your friend?"

Instinctively, I turned to Rose, seeing her for the first time. Her body was stiff, her face carefully blank. Only the tightness of her grip on my arm revealed her fear and apprehension.

"This is Rose," I said, feeling slightly odd as I introduced my human friend to a vampire acquaintance.

Laurent grinned again, though his grin seemed stranger than his last one. "Hello, Rose," he said, perfectly polite.

"Hello," said Rose in a low voice, her tone strained. I felt an admiration of how well she stood her ground, even while meeting an actual vampire.

"From London, I suppose?" Laurent asked. "You have a distinguishable Cockney accent."

Rose said nothing, but Laurent didn't seem to require a response. He turned to me.

"I went to the Cullen place, but I found it empty," he said casually. "I assumed they moved on."

The mere mention of them made my lungs freeze and for a moment I couldn't breathe. Laurent waited with patient eyes as I struggled to reply.

"They did move on," I finally managed.

"Hmm." Laurent took a thoughtful step towards me. "I can't say that I'm unsurprised. The young one seemed extraordinarily fond of you. Weren't you some sort of pet of theirs?" he added innocently.

"Something like that," I said dryly. I felt the pressure in my arm subtly increase, containing a note of urgency, and at the same time I finally realized the subtle difference in Laurent.

I took a casual step back. Rose's grip on my arm loosened considerably, and I could literally sense her relief. Laurent's bright, crimson eyes followed my movement curiously.

"Do they visit often?" he asked casually, visibly shifting towards me.

"Lie," the velvet voice whispered anxiously. I started at the sound of his voice, but was not really surprised. After all, a vampire was the epitome of danger. Motorcycles were warm fuzzy kittens compared to them.

"Oh yes," I said, my voice distorting a bit. "Now and again. The time seems longer to me I imagine. You know they get easily distracted…" I shut up, knowing I had started to babble.

"The house smelled like it had been vacant for quite a while…" Laurent trailed off delicately.

"Lie better than that, Bella," the voice urged. I chanced a glance at Rose. Her face was pale, but her jaw was still tight with determination. I tried again.

"Carlisle would be interested to know that you stopped by. I'll have to mention it to him sometime." I paused, pretending to deliberate. "But I probably shouldn't mention it to…Edward–" I felt my expression twist into a brief grimace, ruining my bluff "–because of the whole James thing. He's still a bit touchy about that." I rolled my eyes in a–hopefully–dismissive manner, but I couldn't deny the hysteric edge to my voice. Rose shot a quick, alarmed glance at me.

"Is he really?" Laurent said pleasantly…and skeptically.

"Mm-hmm." Hopefully my short reply didn't betray the panic lacing my tone.

Laurent took another casual step towards me, under the pretext of looking around the meadow. My panic increased expeditiously and Rose stood so still that it rivaled even vampires' unnatural stillness. The voice snarled viciously in my head.

"So, how are things in Denali?" I asked, my voice embarrassingly becoming high and thin. "Carlisle said you were staying with Tanya, right?"

He paused, and I was immediately relieved. "Tanya is a very fascinating creature," he mused, half to himself. "And Irina is simply exquisite. It was a strange thing, staying in one place for so long and I enjoy exploring the advantages and the novelty of it. But the limitations and restrictions are admittedly wearing…I even cheat a few times," he added conspiratorially.

I felt my palms start to tingle and sweat, my throat dry and rough. I wanted so badly to back away, but I didn't dare with Laurent's eyes on me. The instinct to flee was nearly irrepressible.

"Oh," I answered in a small voice. "Jasper has problems with that as well."

"Really?" His tone was interested. "Is that why they left?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "Jasper is more careful at home."

"Yes," Laurent agreed thoughtfully, almost lazily. "So am I."

There was no mistaking it. The step he took now was quite deliberate.

"Did Victoria ever find you?" I blurted out breathlessly, desperate, and I regretted the question as soon as it came out of my lips. Victoria was _not _a good conversation starter.

But the question did stop him. I almost fainted with relief. Laurent paused, an odd expression appearing on his countenance.

"Yes," he said hesitantly–even grudgingly. "I actually came here as a favor to her." He grimaced, as though he had just thought of something very unpleasant. "She won't be happy about this."

"About what?" I asked, rushing through the words with unnecessary eagerness. Laurent's grimace deepened, and he looked away to glare into the trees. I took his preoccupation to take a hasty step back, Rose following willingly along with me.

Then he turned back to me and smiled a beatific, angelic smile.

"About me killing you," he purred, his voice like a serene caress.

The growling in my head intensified a hundredfold, making it hard to hear. I staggered back another step and Rose blanched.

"She wanted to save that part for herself," he continued. "She was…well, she wasn't very happy with you, Bella."

"Why?" I squeaked.

Laurent shook his head in a humoring sort of way. "I know, it seems a bit backward to me as well. But James was her mate, and your Edward killed him."

Even now, on the brink of death, his name tore at the wounds in my heart like a sharp knife. Rose, seeing my reaction, slid her arm around my shoulder in comfort. Laurent seemed oblivious.

"She thought it would be more appropriate to kill you than Edward–mate for mate." He shrugged delicately. "She asked me to get the lay of the land for her, so to speak. I didn't imagine you would be easy to get to. So perhaps her plan was flawed–a pity. And she was so eager for vengeance…even soliciting the aid of those dreadful Malevens."

"Malevens?" Rose demanded, and I felt a brief spur of admiration for her courage, even when she was about to die.

"Yes." Laurent gave a long-suffering sigh. "Savage and dim-witted though they are, they can be surprisingly tractable. Also, they were no match for us, despite their rather fierce appearance. A rather weak species. We–or rather, Victoria–struck a bargain with their kind. You, in exchange for a wide hunting range. Those disappearances, so carelessly done, were their doing." He then let out a short, though vicious snarl that made me jump a foot. There was a pause, then a high-pitched, familiar keen, and a rustle of the bushes being roughly pushed aside. Rose and I gazed in stupefied horror at the Maleven now appearing in the clearing.

It was the same Maleven that demolished the school cafeteria. Or…was it? After all, I didn't know if all Malevens looked the same or were distinguishable. This Maleven, though, seemed the same as when I last saw him or her or it. The big grotesque wings, the pale skin, the red cat's eyes, the long, sharp, yellow fingernails, the sharp, bared teeth. Its snarls joined those of the delusion, and I repressed the urge to cover my ears. Rose cursed in a low voice, her wide hazel eyes fixed on the Maleven.

"So you see," Laurent continued casually, as though an alien vampire hadn't just come out into the clearing and was growling loudly, its burgundy eyes fixed on Rose and me. "It's quite a burden, but Victoria can be quite tenacious like that. It's tiresome to share food–" And at this Laurent looked genuinely annoyed "–but what can I do? I'll have to be content with what I have. It was very unfortunate for you to stray into my path while I was hunting, and you smelling…absolutely mouthwatering. I'll be very quick. You won't feel a thing, I assure you, Bella. Unfortunately–" Laurent threw an apologetic glance at Rose "–the Maleven isn't quite that quick."

The Maleven, as to reinforce Laurent's words, let out a vicious snarl so loud that it reverberated around the clearing. Rose gave it a glare that would have burned it on the spot, a glare that said quite clearly, "don't you dare come near me". I was frozen to my spot, turning hot and cold and hot again, while my brain was cool and clear.

"Beg, threaten him, say anything!" pleaded the voice, desperation lacing his beautiful timbre.

"Please," I whispered, even now helpless to refuse the voice. I savored it now, at the point of my death.

Laurent shook his head ruefully. The Maleven's wings trembled visibly in anticipation.

"Look at it this way, Bella," he said. "I won't linger. You won't feel a single thing. In fact, I would go so far as to say that you were very lucky that it was me and not Victoria who had found you. Your fate, at her hands, would have been considerably worse. If you had even the slightest idea of what she had planned for you, I swear you'd thank me for this."

I could only stare at him in horror. A wayward breeze played with the tendrils of my hair of Rose's. Laurent inhaled deeply while the Maleven stiffened and uttered the same, familiar call between a roar and keen as it slowly sauntered forth.

This was it, I thought desperately. My body tensed, awaiting the impact, and I felt Rose squeeze my hand tightly. Edward's furious roar echoed in the back of my mind and I felt the barriers suppressing his name disappear as though they were never there. _Edward, Edward, Edward. I'm going to die, Edward. I love you. _

And then, just as I prepared to die, Laurent and the Maleven paused and whipped their head to the left. For a second I was too scared to see what had distracted them–I could only be grateful for whatever it was that had distracted them. So I was amazed–and Rose too–when Laurent started to back away. The Maleven stood his ground, though was emitting a steady, low growl.

"I don't believe it," he said so low that I could hardly hear it. The Maleven let out something like a whimper before growling low again.

I had to look then. As my eyes scanned the meadow quickly, I didn't see anything out of place. My eyes flickered to Laurent and saw that he was still backing up. The burgundy, slanted eyes of the Maleven narrowed, still growling. Then I heard Rose suddenly gasp and turned to her. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock, looking in the same direction as Laurent and the Maleven. I looked again, and I finally saw it.

A huge, black shape eased out of the trees, swift and silent like a shadow, stalking deliberately at the vampire and alien vampire. It was a humongous beast, as big as a horse, only thicker and more muscular; not quite a bear, and yet it was far too big to be a regular wolf. Wolves simply didn't grow that big. Its long muzzle grimaced, revealing two long lines of dagger-like teeth. Something between a growl and a snarl erupted from its mouth, its paws making now noise as it slowly moved forward into the clearing.

"Don't move," Edward whispered tersely.

How could I, when I could hardly breathe? Yet I stood perfectly still, hardly daring to even breathe. Laurent was swiftly backing away, his eyes wide with horror, like mine, and I felt a stab of confusion underneath the cover of freezing shock. Why would Laurent, of all people, retreat? Although the wolf was monstrous in size, it was, in the end, just an animal. What good would those teeth be against his granite skin? Why would a vampire fear an animal?

Suddenly, as if to answer my question, two mammoth beasts appeared, although smaller, one a deep gray and the other a chocolate brown. The gray wolf was only a few feet away from me, its eyes fixed on Laurent and the Maleven. Before I could even react, two more wolves appeared, lined up in a perfect V formation, the reddish brown monster close enough for me and Rose to touch. Rose was the first to react, jumping away instinctively, pulling me with her. We both froze, waiting for the wolves to turn on us. Two warm-blooded, soft humans, surely, were more appetizing than a cold, hard vampire.

The wolf, the closest one, turned his head an inch toward us. Its eyes were dark, nearly black–deep eyes seemingly too intelligent for a wild animal. As it stared at me, I was suddenly reminded of Jacob–in dismay that I'd never know what was with him. With a sickening pang, I also remembered that Rose was going to die with me, and that it was my entire fault.

A growl from the leader, and the auburn wolf turned his head back toward Laurent.

Laurent stared at the pack of monster wolves with evident shock and fear. The Maleven, to my surprise, started backing away, though it wasn't fear in its pupils–it was a deep annoyance for the necessity of retreat. Although I was still very much confused, the fear still pounded through me like poison. Not only were there two threats, but three. If the wolves do survive the encounter–a laughable idea–they would be after me and Rose next. And if Laurent and the Maleven finally get rid of them, Rose and I would both be their next meal.

We were, quite literally, surrounded by Death at all sides. Fate, thou art heartless.

I felt my shoulder slump in a resigned way. My heart was still beating frantically and I was still very much scared out of my wits, but my head felt cool and oddly light. I awaited death with an indifference that frightened me. Maybe I wasn't meant to live. After all, I had a few too many close shaves. Why evade Death if I was somehow destined to die? Heck, why even avoid it in the first place? Although the concept of heaven or hell or whatever afterlife there was without Edward was inconceivable, maybe the hole would disappear. I could only wish. I inwardly snorted. Since when have I been such a big believer in destiny?

I knew the answer to that one: since I met Edward and fell hopelessly, desperately, irrevocably in love with him.

Surprisingly, I felt my mind wander aimlessly as my body physically prepared for the fight-or-fight instinct.

It is strange how tightly we cling to life at the direst moments, while the knowledge of death chokes you, when you know for sure that you are going to die and there is nothing anybody can do about it. That cold, sick feeling in your lungs, that fierce, warm desire for life, and that adrenaline pumping into your veins–those are feelings and sensations that I've become acquainted with on a normal basis, but were still horrible to experience.

Not as bad as when Edward had…left me, though. No feeling could possibly be as bad as that. After all, the world couldn't end twice.

My hands balled into fists as I breathed shallowly through my nose.

But it was stupid, ridiculous that I should feel panic and fear, when I've been in so many dire and dangerous situations, from tripping to getting tracked down by a sadistic vampire in Phoenix, then said sadistic vampire coming back and getting ready to kill me as soon as he deals with a pack of mind-blowingly huge wolves. Then again, I wasn't worrying solely about my own life at the moment.

As I immersed myself in deep thoughts, Rose squeezed my hand tightly in reassurance and I likewise, drawing comfort from the warmth. At least I wouldn't die alone. We are going to die together, knowing that our true loves will, at least, be safe. That made the whole dying thing almost bearable.

I closed my eyes, my body bracing itself for the impact of death, and vaguely I heard, as of from a distance, a slight, familiar whooshing sound.

At first I thought I was mistaken and I struggled to suppress the sudden upsurge of hope that had risen in me. I had only heard that particular sound once, but it was the kind of sound you can never quite forget. I knew that I wasn't mistaken when Laurent, the Maleven, and the wolves turned around–simultaneously, I might add–and gaped, just like Rose and I were, at the blinking florescent light that had suddenly materialized out of thin air, and the faint outline of something blue. A cool wind passed over the meadow, ruffling our hairs, and increasing in velocity. The sound increased in volume as well, and the faint outline became more and more delicate until suddenly, it was _there_, so solid and real. The blinking stopped and the winds died down almost instantly; the meadow became calm again.

It was the TARDIS.

There was a deafening silence. Everyone gathered in the meadow seemed to be holding their breath, gaping at the public police call box that had just materialized out of thin air, eyes wide with shock. Even the wolves had a decipherable expression of shock on their countenances. Although I didn't look away from the TARDIS, I felt Rose's relief as keenly as my own. The Doctor was here–he would sort everything out.

Then the TARDIS door opened, and from it stepped out two arguing teenagers.

They seemed to be sixteen or seventeen by the look of them, and twins besides. One of them, a girl, was as short as I was, with straight blonde hair and deep brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, that flashed with anger and righteous indignation. Her chubby cheeks and her wide mouth, now set into a tight line, was a stark contrast to her tight, almost stubborn jaw line and thin nose, aquiline nose. The boy was noticeably taller than her, thin of build, also with blonde hair and deep brown eyes, though his face was thinner, his cheekbones less prominent, even thin. He seemed to be calmer than the girl, though evidently annoyed and agitated. The both of them seemed completely unaware that they had a whole gaping audience.

"…And honestly, did you have to insist on driving the TARDIS?" the boy was saying exasperatedly to the girl. I was surprised to hear that he too had a British accent. "You knew that you can't drive her!"

"Yes I can!" the girl insisted, stubbornly jutting out her chin in defiance. "I just miscalculated, okay? I've seen Dad drive it loads of times before. I was just nervous because _you _were pressuring me to hurry it up!"

"I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't bullied me into stealing it!" the boy retorted. "You can be so pushy sometimes, Nova!"

"Well, _excuse _me if I wanted to see Daniel!" the girl, Nova, yelled. "I haven't seen him in, like…two weeks! And besides, I promised him that I'd meet him! What would he have thought if I stood him up?"

"Oh, that's nice, that's really nice, Nova," the boy said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Now we're stuck in God knows where in God knows what time and God knows what sort of situation!"

"Stop being so melodramatic! We are _not _stuck in any sort of situation!" cried Nova, before her and her brother turned around and saw us gaping at them. They froze, eyes wide in twin, comical expressions of shock. Only their eyes moved, spanning from face to face, muzzle to muzzle. There was a pregnant pause.

"Nova," said the boy finally, his voice higher than its usual pitch. "What did you _do_?"

"I can honestly say that I have absolutely no idea," Nova breathed.

They exhaled sharply in unison.

"Dad is _so _going to kill us," whispered the boy, visibly blanching.

"He will have to bury us, 'cause Mum will get to us first," said Nova miserably.

The silence was only a few seconds this time. Then I heard a loud snarl, and Laurent and the Maleven whipped their heads around. The wolves let out several loud snarls so loud that made Rose and me jump and wince, and in a flash sprinted across the grass in a few, long bounds. Laurent and the Maleven almost disappeared–they were so fast, even for vampires. The sound faded surprisingly fast as they all disappeared into the wolves. Then everything was silent again in surprisingly swiftness.

For a moment all Rose and I could do was gape mutely at the two kids, who stared at us. There commenced an awkward silence.

"Er…hi!" Nova finally said with false, awkward cheerfulness, breaking the silence. "Did we…er…come at a bad time?" Her brother let out something of a grown and buried his face in his hand, as though embarrassed. Nova gave him a glare that would've melted steel.

"I would say a good time, seeing as we were about to get murdered by two hungry vampires and quite possibly a pack of huge wolves," said Rose breathlessly, almost breathing the words.

Relief crept into the cracks of my wall of shock at Rose's words, and I let out a choked laugh, which Rose imitated. It was a humorless, though relieved laugh, with a tinge of what seemed like hysteria. Spontaneously we hugged each other tightly, not believing our luck.

"Oh, God, I thought we were going to die, and they were and they were going to kill us and I thought I would never see the Doctor again, or even Jack and then the wolves came…" Rose was rambling.

I privately agreed, feeling both shaken by the array of emotions I had experienced in the past five or so minutes (was it merely that? It seemed like an eternity for me) and both relieved at my current state of existence. I felt suddenly exhausted from the emotional upheaval.

Rose and I finally separated and turned to our saviors, catching them exchanging surreptitious looks at each other.

"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Nova muttered. Her brother nodded fervently.

"Who are you two?" Rose asked the question that was burning in my tongue.

They both exchanged looks again, though their eyes, so identical, were now wary.

"I'm Nova," said Nova finally. "And this is my brother, Rigel."

"Hi," he said politely.

"Nice to meet you," said Rose. "I'm Rose and this is Bella."

"We know," Nova piped up, and then exclaimed when Rigel elbowed her in the ribs. "Ow! What–" She fell silent at her brother's look.

"What do you mean, you know?" I asked, frowning slightly.

Nova and Rigel exchanged desperate looks at each other. They locked eyes for a moment before looking at us.

"All right," Nova finally said. "I know this is going to sound weird to you, but, um…what year is it? And…where exactly are we?"

"2006," Rose answered slowly. "In Forks, Washington, the U.S., Earth, the Milky Way…"

Rose's sarcasm seemed to be lost on the twins, however. Instead, they looked shocked and looked at each other with total panic in their eyes.

"2006," Rigel said very slowly, his face slowly losing any color he might have had. "Oh…"

"My…"

"God!"

They looked at each other helplessly for one long moment, while Rose and I stared at them in hopeless confusion. Then Nova and Rigel both groaned.

"You really screwed up, this time, Nova," Rigel groaned, massaging his temples.

"Don't you think I don't know that?" Nova snapped, though looking genuinely upset.

"Sorry, but what are you talking about?" Rose asked, a mite impatiently.

Nova bit her lip while Rigel ran his fingers through his hair in a weary fashion. They suddenly looked very old for their age.

"Look," Nova finally said, shifting her weight from one foot to another in an uneasy way. "I know this will sound weird…well, it might not sound weird to you, but weird in the general sense of the word–"

"Nova, cut to the chase," interrupted Rigel, then added dryly, "You're talking gibberish."

Nova shot him a dark look, then sighed. "All right. We're from the future and we don't know how we got to the past in the first place–"

"We know," muttered Rigel. "It was because of your poor/nonexistent driving skills."

Nova glared daggers at Rigel, who merely rolled his eyes. "Can I please continue without interruptions?"

"You may," said Rigel wryly.

"Well, anyway," Nova began again, her tone noticeably lighter. "We had no intention in going to the past, but as you can see, we landed here quite on accident and have no idea how to get back to our time because as Rigel rudely pointed out, I suck at driving the TARDIS–"

"It's not that you suck," said Rigel before adding, almost slyly, "It's just that you are a maniacal driver. You're even worse than JT."

"Ha!" Nova rolled her eyes. "Now I know you're exaggerating. No one can be worse than JT when it comes to driving the TARDIS."

"Well…yeah, you're right," Rigel admitted sheepishly, seeming to recall something.

Rose and I gaped at them through their entire conversation.

"So…you know us?" Rose asked tentatively.

"Yes," Nova reluctantly admitted, grimacing. "God, it's so hard admitting such incriminating stuff. When you've been brought up your whole life on the importance of _not_ ripping the time space continuum and consequently destroying whole worlds and universes…well, it's kind of going against the grain, so to speak."

"Wait," I said, suddenly thinking of something. "If you come to the future like you claimed, then what are you doing with the Doctor's TARDIS?"

Nova and Rigel's countenances went utterly blank. They exchanged glances again.

"We don't understand what you're talking about," said Nova calmly. "This is our TARDIS."

"But it looks exactly the same as the Doctor's," Rose argued, and I agreed.

Nova and Rigel shrugged in perfect unison, but said nothing and, I realized sourly, would say nothing. Nova and Rigel looked sadly at our displeased countenances.

"There are loads of things we are not in the liberty to reveal," said Rigel quietly. "Some mysteries have to go unrevealed. That is the way of time travel."

"Tricky business," Nova agreed.

Rose and I looked at each other before reluctantly nodding. I secretly resolved, however, to find out who exactly where they and how they knew us. Before I could ask them any more questions, however, I noticed the sky was beginning to darken a little and realized that I had to go home or Charlie would worry.

"We're going to have to go," I said apologetically.

"Want to ride?" Nova gestured to the TARDIS. "I can drive–"

"No!" Rigel blurted out, then blushed, light pink spots appearing on his cheeks as Rose and I looked at him. "She's a horrible driver. That's what got us into this mess."

"Oh, that's nice," Nova huffed. "I make one little mistake such as land in an unknown time and place in the past and all of a sudden I can't be trusted with the TARDIS. How do you even know that it's a malfunction in the TARDIS and not my so-called horrid driving skills?"

"She won't like you saying that to her," Rigel said dryly.

"I bet she pulled us in this time, for some reason," Nova said thoughtfully. "Dad said that the TARDIS did that sometimes…" She suddenly broke off, a guilty look on her face.

"Oh yes, blurt out everything, why don't you?" muttered Rigel darkly, and Nova blushed. He raised his voice. "Well, let's get in, then. _I'll_ drive."

Nova, in a childish gesture, stuck out her tongue at him as we walked to the TARDIS, Rigel rolling his eyes. The inside was exactly the same as in the Doctor's TARDIS, making us even more confused than ever.

"Impossible…" I heard Rose mutter.

"All right, let's rock and roll!" Nova said enthusiastically as she walked to the TARDIS console. Rigel, however, quickly got there first and already started to fiddle with the controls.

"Not a chance," Rigel said sternly, right before Nova opened her mouth to speak.

Nova glared at him, her lips slipping into a pout, and she crossed her arms. Rigel ignored her, pulling switches and controls, though with less efficiency and smoothness than the Doctor. His movements were mechanical, almost uncertain. I saw him and Nova sometimes surreptiously look at me or Rose, though they'd always look quickly away.

"That's it," Rigel said with satisfaction at the beeping. "Okay…back to Forks, Washington. Hold on tight."

As soon as he said this, the TARDIS suddenly started to shake violently, and I grabbed the edge of the TARDIS console to steady myself. The whirring sound was heard again, growing louder and louder and the TARDIS started to rock back and forth violently, almost throwing me to one side part of the TARDIS and to another. Finally the rocking stopped and the TARDIS became still and silent again.

"I could've _so _done that better," muttered Nova, picking herself off the floor.

Rigel snorted. "Yeah, right. At least I didn't crash us into the past."

We got out of the TARDIS and I got yet another shock for the day. We were in the same forest I went into and bumped into the TARDIS. In fact, the TARDIS was right beside another, identical public police call box. The original TARDIS. And they looked _exactly _the same.

Before Rose and I could say anything, there came a yell.

"Oi!"

Rose, Nova, Rigel, and I turned around and felt a shock that overwhelmed everything else. The Doctor and Jack were standing right in front of us, Jack looking confused and the Doctor…well, looking as shocked as we felt. I inwardly winced, wondering exactly how long they've been standing there.

"All right, what is going on? And who are _they_?"

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Finally I'm finished! Can you believe that I finished this in one o'clock? It's 7,000 words if my word count is accurate. Well, hoped you all enjoyed this chapter, because I did…sort of. It was really boring writing about all the stuff you already know and blah, blah, blah…but it was fun to finally introduce Nova and Rigel, who are my lovely OC characters. Question is, though, who exactly are they? -Mockingly ponders- And also, hope that you all got enough of Bella-angst. You guys are really sadistic, but what can I say? So am I! ****Also, sorry if this moved a little bit too quickly. I had to improvise as I went along and didn't have much time to make smooth transitions. **

**Well, enough of my silly rambles and please review! I'll even give you a cookie. :) **


	12. Discovery and Rescue Mission

**A/N: Before you guys can kill/maim me, I would just like to say that high school is unbelievably tiresome. You work from beginning to period to the end so that when you finally get home all you think about is A). Doing homework and B). Snoozing. Plus, it didn't help that I got stuck in a rut (a.k.a. writer's block) while writing Bella and Jacob's fight AND also getting a new original story idea that was just begging to be written. **

**I would also like to add just how similar my and Stephanie Meyer's writing style are. Don't get me wrong, I most certainly am **_**not**_** saying that, just by writing a dream, I can single-handedly create a multi-million dollar phenomenon **_**(-snorts-**_** I wish), but you have to admit that we do have sophisticated writing styles and over-the-top sensory details…and also the fact that we cannot write anything short **_**to save our lives**_** (thus, why this chapter is over 6,500 words. Yeah.). Which is why whenever I write something, and then check **_**New Moon**_**, I sometimes find that what I've written and what she'd written are disturbingly similar…which makes me frustrated because it's below my dignity to plagiarize (what does that say about my status as an aspiring writer?). Thus, why my chapter got delayed. I was too busy glaring at the screen, then glaring at the book, then glaring at my brother who just happened to be in the room. **

**But at least whereas my style is always interlaced by some sort of humor, hers is more serious by half. And mine is too stiffly formal (blame classics and literature) while hers flows more naturally. And I'm a sadistic, cruel authoress who enjoys making her characters suffer whereas Meyer could not bear that her mind children are unhappy. Huh. Maybe we aren't that much alike after all…DAMN IT! Now I can't add that piece to my disclaimer…:(**

**Well, enough of my nonsensical ramblings! Read and review, _si' vous plait_!**

**Disclaimer: -**_**Insert exceptionally witty and clever disclaimer here**_**-**

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Eleven-Discovery and Rescue Mission

"Hi! I'm Nova, and this is my twin brother Rigel. We're from the future and crash landed in the past, unintentionally saving Rose and Bella from getting killed by two vampires, one who was a Maleven, by distracting them and allowing the pack of wolves to run after them thus causing said vampires to flee! Isn't that just honky-dory?"

The Doctor and Jack just stared at her as though Nova had grown horns. The tips of Rigel's ears were visibly reddening with embarrassment, but he only wore a slightly chagrined look on his face. I guessed that he was quite used to Nova's robust enthusiasm.

"What?" The Doctor was uncharacteristically flabbergasted. "What? What?" Then his voice went abruptly flat. "_What_?"

My stomach squirmed apprehensively at this. Rigel shuffled his feet nervously, and Nova gave a nervous little laugh.

"I'll, uh, just let Bella and Rose explain," she said quickly, her voice higher than its usual pitch, jumping out of the way. Rose glared at her and so did I. Traitor.

The Doctor turned to us, his arms folded against his chest. He looked uncharacteristically serious and for a second he looked downright intimidating.

"Explain," he said shortly.

So Rose and I took turns explaining the whole story to them, with the Doctor and Jack listening attentively to even the smallest of details. It was extremely difficult to continue to the part where Laurent and the Maleven were about to kill us, but somehow we managed despite the sudden, furious looks on their faces. Well, more like the Doctor's face.

"What the bloody _hell _were you thinking?" The Doctor said slowly and distinctively, anger underlying his tone. "You could have been killed, both of you!"

"Oh yes, because we most certainly _knew _that a vampire was going to be there with another alien vampire looking for food and so we purposely put ourselves in their path because hell, we are secretly suicidal!" Rose snapped, fighting fire with fire, sarcasm dripping in his tone. "Doctor, don't be ridiculous!"

"The heck I am!" The Doctor said exasperatedly. "Shouldn't it be enough to leave you alone for one measly hour without you getting into mortal danger?"

"Apparently not, because apparently, I make a habit of getting myself into mortal danger!" replied Rose, her tone still bitingly sarcastic.

"Um, I'm sure that the Doctor didn't mean to say that–" I quickly said, fully prepared to act like an intermediary.

"I mean every word that I ever say, ever," the Doctor declared. "Because I'm _the Doctor_!"

They glared each other and a tense, awkward silence ensued. Frankly, I was shocked at this sudden animosity and struggled to find a way to defuse it. The twins were even more uncomfortable than I was at the Doctor and Rose's fight. In fact, apprehension and panic was clear on their countenances, as they looked from the Doctor and Rose and back again. Jack looked reminiscent to a deer caught in headlights. The oppressive silence lingered on for a few moments, and then–to our shock–the Doctor and Rose suddenly grinned at each other.

"I can't believe we just fought," Rose said disbelievingly.

"And _I_ can't believe that I just quoted from Potter Puppet Pals," said the Doctor, chuckling. "Definitely something I haven't done and will never do in the future. Ever."

They both laughed, the sound of their voices together somehow blending in perfect harmony. I wasn't the only one who gaped at them openly.

"What?" The Doctor finally noticed us staring at them.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" Nova said impatiently. She seemed agitated. "Don't ever do that again! It's disconcerting."

"What's disconcerting?" Rose asked, confused.

"What Nova meant," Rigel quickly explained, "is that you fought, glared at each other, then made up in the space of a minute."

The Doctor and Rose exchanged glances, then both shrugged in disconcerting unison. "Eh."

I started shaking my head in disbelief. Really, could things get even _weirder_ than they were now?

"Why are you shaking your head?" Jack asked curiously.

"I just realized how uncontrollably weird my life has gotten," I answered. "Not that it has been normal before, but still…"

"Oh, that," said the Doctor in his usual cheerful voice. "That's just because of me. For some reason, whenever I go somewhere, the most impossible and improbable things happen, such as alien vampires arriving in Forks. Everything sane and normal is utterly thrown out the window and chaos and weirdness prevail."

"Well, that makes perfect sense," I deadpanned. My heart was finally starting to calm down from my recent near-death experience and I felt a bit of color finally returning to my cheeks.

"You _do _have a habit of completely changing people's lives just by being there," Rose said humorously, but also reminiscently.

"I'm so glad to have met the Doctor," said Jack, then added cheekily, "Love at first sight."

"Careful, Harkness," said the Doctor warningly as Rose and I sniggered. "Remember the duel?"

At this unwelcome reminder, Jack's smile slipped into a sullen pout. Suddenly, Nova and Rigel burst out laughing. We all watched them as they rolled around in laughter.

"I'm assuming you know what I'm talking about?" The Doctor said curiously as they calmed down.

Nova and Rigel just shrugged mysteriously, but the amused twinkle in their eyes gave them away.

"C'mon, say it," Rose begged. "I've been dying to know what happened."

But they both shook their heads, hiding smiles.

"It's more than our life's worth to tell you that," said Rigel seriously, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

"I wasn't aware that I could deal out death threats," said the Doctor humorously, then turned thoughtful…and serious. "What _was_ our relationship in the future?"

"Sorry, Doctor," said Nova lightly. "You know what will happen if we disclose that information."

"Time-space continuum and all that jazz," Rigel added.

"It doesn't matter anyway," said the Doctor, overconfident. "I'll figure it out somehow."

_And so will I_, I silently added, my resolve strengthening to find out the identities of the mysterious twins from the future.

"We wish you weren't," I heard Nova say, her dark eyes becoming unfathomably deep. "The truth can be a very dangerous thing, as you well know, Doctor."

* * *

And so my already hectic life got even more hectic with the addition of the twins. To explain away their sudden appearance, the Doctor claimed that Nova and Rigel were his niece and nephew. The twins were somehow amused by that, but nevertheless agreed. Since neither of them wanted to go to school, they pretended to be eighteen (I could hardly believe the town swallowed that one, but then Nova and Rigel could be very mature for their age if they wanted to and I suppose the whole town wasn't as observant as me).

Life was spiraling out of control. School, worry for Jacob, the tantalizing mystery of the twins, worry for Jacob, the Maleven hunt, worry for Jacob, hair-raising fear that Victoria would come after me, worry for Jacob, my nightmares getting even more frequent and terrifying, worry for Jacob…in truth, I was a mess and very close to having a mental breakdown. I could feel Charlie's worry so acutely it was almost palpable.

Jacob was, of course, always on my mind in some shape or form. I couldn't help but worry, and still endeavored to contact him, though it was more mechanical than anything; my hope dwindled down to a weak, tiny spark. After my latest near-death experience, I needed him now, more than ever. I missed his warm voice, his infectious personality, his perpetual impish grin. The horror of Victoria coming to get me made my nightmares crop up even more frequently, and each time I opened my eyes to the blinding light of the morning, I would feel surprise that I had lived to see another day. The thought of having my days numbered made my heart behave erratically and my palms to sweat excessively. Desperately I longed for Jacob, but I didn't begrudge the distance set by him as much. It was better for him–and safer–if he wasn't anywhere near me.

Luckily I had plenty to distract me from these dark thoughts, though they never succeeded to eradicate them wholly from my mind. The mystery of Nova and Rigel, of where they came from, was perhaps the most effective distracter. Although they would refuse to tell us–meaning me, the Doctor, Rose, and Jack–anything about the future, it was impossible to ignore their slip-of-the-tongue's, mostly by Nova, who had difficulty shutting her mouth and would almost blurt out something incriminating and Rigel, who had more self-control, would stop her. They would have whispered conversations with each other at times, and they would unthinkingly make references about unknown people and things–a person named "J.T." or one called "Nessa" and occasionally "Henry" were the most common. They both intrigued and frustrated us. Plus, I couldn't shake off the feeling that those names meant something to me, or should mean something to me.

Not only was the mystery surrounding them intriguing, but the twins themselves were as well. Nova was perpetually hyper and borderline crazy, filled with zany sayings such as "awesomelicious," "splendiferous," "fantabulous" and the like. Sometimes she would ramble about things wholly unrelated to the topic of discussion and switch the subject almost a dozen times before finally reverting back to the topic of discussion. It was more amusing than anything else, though I couldn't help but feel that she seemed familiar to me. It wasn't until I started imagining her pixie-like, with short dark hair and golden eyes that I abruptly stopped wondering why.

Rigel was the opposite. He was mostly calm and quiet while Nova would ramble beside him. Occasionally he would say a witty, dry remark which was his own branch of humor. He was the most sensible, and would be the first one to shake his head at his sister's antics. Like Nova, however, he had a quick temper, though it took awhile for him to get properly riled up. But no matter how different they were, I could tell that the bond between them was unusually strong, even when they quarreled back and forth like a normal brother and sister. They always seem to know what the other was thinking, which made it ideal for Rigel to stop Nova from revealing things about the future.

And as though I didn't have enough to worry about, I also had another additional, if unexpected worry to ponder upon. Namely, the Doctor.

It was difficult to tell, as he tried very hard to conceal it from me and the others, but I was positive that something was upsetting the Doctor. Although outwardly he was as cheerful and benign as always, I could sense that it was all fake, a charade that nevertheless had a tinge of melancholy seeping through its cracks. Sometimes, when his guard was down, I caught him with a most forlorn countenance and pain seemed to flicker in his dark eyes. This alarmed me a great deal, and I sought him out to ask him what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, Bella," he assured me, rolling his eyes. "I told you once, and I'll tell you again–you're going to get premature grey hairs."

I wasn't convinced, however, (although I privately admitted that I was indeed going to go prematurely grey if revengeful vampires continued going after me and if my best friend still avoided me) and I was secretly determined to find out the reason why. But as I soon found out, not only was the Doctor acting strangely, but Rose as well.

Rose wasn't as great an actress as the Doctor and I immediately noticed her as subdued and getting increasingly quiet and pensive as the days wore on. She too seemed sad, and the absence of her normally cheerful chatter struck me as odd. What was even odder was that both she and the Doctor seemed to be depressed at precisely the same time, and I didn't know exactly what was with them. I talked to Jack and he seemed as puzzled as I was, though not as worried.

"The Doctor has always been very strange," he said as if explaining, shrugging. "Whatever is bothering him, he'll get over it. He always does. As for Rose…it's probably just her time of the month."

A bit too much information for my liking, but I let it pass.

The only reason I could come up with for the Doctor and Rose's unorthodox behavior was Nova and Rigel's unexpected appearance, but why would the twins instigate such depression to begin with? Maybe they finally found out who they were. But if so, why would they conceal it from me and Jack? And surely they'd be pleased with finding out the secret that had frustrated them for so long…

It was a miracle that my head was still intact. Everything was overwhelming, and school I had little patience for. Pretending that I didn't have anything to worry about except school was wearing on me and going through the motions made me mentally exhausted. It was only a matter of time before I cracked.

I did not have to wait very long.

* * *

Driving home from school on a Friday afternoon, I was thinking broodingly about Jacob (again) when I suddenly had an epiphany. It was as though my subconscious had been slowly working up to it and had delivered the verdict right when I wasn't paying attention to anything, letting the familiar sound of the engine deaden my brain.

Of course. It was so obvious I was surprised I hadn't realized it sooner. It was true I had a lot on my mind, but with me almost constantly dwelling on Jacob, I should've figured out the mystery sooner.

It was Sam Uley. He had gotten, somehow, to Jacob and sucked him in to his–his cult or gang, just as he had done to the other boys on the reservation.

Everything made perfect sense. Jacob hadn't given up me at all, but was forced to stop seeing me. _Sam _was the one who was doing this, I realized with a sudden upsurge of emotion. But what to do?

If I went after him, I risked not only the chance of Victoria or Laurent or even the Maleven finding me, but also the chance of finding me with Jacob. I shivered at the thought of them even anywhere near him.

If I didn't look for him, Sam would only suck him deeper in his compulsory gang. Would it be too late if I waited?

To hell with it, I thought decisively. Jacob was worth the danger. Besides, it had been a week already, and a week was plenty of time to get rid of a weak, pathetic human such as myself. I must not have been that much of a priority. Also, it was more probable that they would attack at night rather than by day and risk exposure. The chance of losing my best friend was more than to getting devoured by two vampires and one alien vampire. I _had _to go to La Push and talk to Jacob–kidnap him if necessary.

I suddenly had another thought: did the Doctor know what was happening in La Push? What was happening to Jacob? And he didn't _tell _me?! I was half a mind to turn the truck around and head straight to the TARDIS to give him a piece of my mind. In fact, I almost did, until I remembered Jacob.

Jacob. He was decidedly my top priority. I'll kill the Doctor later, I decided grimly. Firstly, though, I'd better call Charlie.

Four minutes afterwards, I hung up, frustrated, having called Charlie and Billy, one after the other. The first call to Charlie was a disaster, as he'd practically dismissed my concerns. Apparently, Sam Uley had everyone in his pocket. And Billy didn't help much, though my worst fears were effectively confirmed. How nice.

Hardening my jaw, I started for the door, but before I could reach it, a thought struck me. My hand hesitated near the doorknob as I pondered.

Involving a third party was out of the question, I knew, but for some reason I felt the keenest urge to call Rose (not the Doctor, as I was a bit irritated at him for not telling me about Jacob). If all else failed, I suppose I would want Rose to know of my decision to rescue Jacob from the claws of Sam Uley. But I realized that I didn't have Rose's number, and that the only number I had was… _Jack's_. Sighing heavily, I stared pensively at the phone in my hand. Telling Jack or even talking to him of that matter was not the wisest course of action in the world; Jack was tactless to a fault, and made everything into a joke, sort of like Emm–

My chest suddenly heaved in pain and for a moment I couldn't breathe. _Rewind! _My head yelled and I shoved that thought into the deepest, darkest corners of my mind. Okay. Back on topic.

Still though, since I had no way of contacting Rose and since I didn't want to talk to the Doctor right at this morning without giving him a verbal lashing of a lifetime, I grudgingly conceded to calling Jack.

I punched in the number and waited for him to pick up. Finally, he picked up.

"Hey, Janet, before you say anything, I just want to say I'm really sorry I haven't been calling you, but I've been really busy at this moment and quite frankly I'm not sure I'm ready for a long-term relationship, I kind of have commitment issues that I'm resolving presently with my therapist–"

"Jack, it's me, Bella," I interrupted his nervous ramblings, amused and bemused at the same time.

"Oh! Bella!" His voice was surprised, and most certainly embarrassed. "Er...can you forget you heard all that?"

Was he kidding me? "Nope."

"Ah well, it was worth a try," Jack said cheerfully, not at all chagrined. "So, why'd ya call me?"

I sighed, sobering up immediately. "Jack, I'm going to La Push."

There was silence at the other line. "What? But I thought Jake was avoiding you."

"I thought wrong," I answered darkly, then promptly told me of my epiphany. Jack was silent for a few moments.

"Bella, I don't think that's right," he said finally. "Jacob's not one to be bossed around, so to speak. I should know. While I admit that there is something fishy going on with the, er, lovely boys on the reservation–" I struggled not to roll my eyes at his barely concealed admiration. "–a cult is a bit unlikely, don't you think? Besides, the Doctor would've done something if Jacob–"

"Ah, so you know that the Doctor knows?" I said sourly.

"Yeah," said Jack sheepishly. "It was rather obvious that he knew something. Still, though, if it was serious the Doctor would do something about it."

"That's not what I heard from Rose," I argued. "From what I heard, the Doctor doesn't dare to anything to change the past. That's a big no-no for him, isn't it?"

"Be reasonable, Bella."

I almost laughed out loud. Jack, telling me to be reasonable?

"I know it sounds weird," said Jack, as though sensing my mirth. "But Bella, this is uncharacteristically rash of you. I mean, not to say that I'm not proud of you–we certainly done you a hell of a lot of good–but I don't think you should go. It's not…_safe_, Bella."

I froze. Then frowned. "What do mean, not safe? Jacob is not dangerous."

There was a long silence. I gasped in realization.

"The Doctor said something about Jacob, didn't he? _Didn't he_?"

"Only that he was unstable or something," Jack muttered almost inaudibly. "And that it would be prudent to wait."

"Unstable?" Had the Doctor reached a new level of craziness?

"Hey, that's just what the Doctor said," Jack said almost defensively. "But Bella…people have been hurt or even killed by not listening to the Doctor. He usually knows what he's talking about."

"Jack, this isn't a matter of life and death," I argued, feeling that this whole discussion was plain ridiculous. "This is Jacob we're talking about. Jacob my friend. The Jacob you constantly flirted with and _still _do, which is downright disturbing, by the way."

"It's not my fault my heart's big enough for the whole universe…or two," said Jack, definitely defensive. His voice turned pleading. "Seriously, though. Please, Bella."

But my mind was already decided, regardless of what Jack or the Doctor said. I was focused on solely one thing: getting my best friend back.

* * *

I parked the truck in front of the Black house, determined to wait as long as it was necessary for Jacob to come back. I didn't have long to wait before a sharp tap on my window made me jump and it wasn't Billy.

"What are you doing, Bella?" Jacob demanded, his tone hostile.

I was left speechless and wide-eyed. Jacob had grown a foot or two at least since I last saw him and more than that, his body was no longer thin and lanky, but huge and muscular. He looked like a twenty year old than just sixteen. His long, beautiful hair was cut, cropped short like Quil's. But the most noticeable change was his face and his expression. The planes of his countenance were not charmingly boyish anymore, but hard, stiff, and mature. The warmth in his ebony eyes was all but gone now, and they were instead like…like the Doctor's eyes: aged and brooding, but with resentment, not sadness. His expression was dark, angry, and bitter. It was as though my sun had imploded.

"Jacob?" I whispered.

Jacob didn't reply, but merely looked at me, tense and angry.

It was then that I realized that we had company. Behind him stood four others, all tall, russet-skinned, and bulky, with chopped hair like Jacob's. It was remarkable how much alike they looked, like they were brothers, or quintuplets. The resemblance was strengthened by the same hostility in their dark eyes. In all those pairs but one.

Easily the oldest and most mature out of all of them, Sam lingered at the back, his face calm and sure. Irrational, red-hot anger boiled inside of me at the sight of him and my palms tingled in longing and anticipation. I wanted more than to hit him–I wanted to seriously scare him, to make him wish he'd never met me and left Jacob alone. I wanted to be something strong, powerful, and formidable, something that Sam Uley won't dare to mess with. I wanted to be a vampire.

That forbidden, fervent wish caught me off guard, knocking the breath of me. I struggled to keep my composure.

"I want to talk to you," I said, weaker than I attended.

"All right then," snapped Jacob, his expression growing all the more resentful. I've never seen Jacob look at me so viciously before. My mind jumped to the Doctor and his warning. Did he know of Jacob's new antagonism?

"Alone," I hissed, fed up with his new attitude.

At my words, everyone–including Jacob–turned around to see Sam's reaction. He nodded and said something in Quileute to the other boys, and turned toward Jacob's house. The other boys–I assumed were Paul, Jared, and Embry–followed suit.

"Okay," said Jacob briskly, seeming less angry without the presence of the others. His face, slightly calmer now, nevertheless had a hint of helplessness. I stared at him silently, wishing that the Jacob I knew–the Jacob with the laughing eyes–would come back and wipe away all that anger and bitterness, wherever it came from.

"You know what I want to know," I said steadily.

Jacob didn't reply, but looked at me bitterly.

"Can we walk?" I asked, desperately grasping at anything to break the silence.

I got out of the car anyway when Jacob didn't respond and walked away from the house, ignoring the unseen stares boring into my back. At first I assumed Jacob wasn't following behind as I only heard the noisy scuffling sound my feet made in contact with the wet, slick ground, but when I looked back, I was surprised to see Jacob following me, his footsteps swift and noiseless. I was surprised by his newfound grace; last time I saw him, he'd been as clumsy and awkward as I am, and that was saying something. After awhile, I stopped at a distance from the house and Jacob too halted. We faced each other, and I waited for him to speak.

"It's not what you think," Jacob finally said, abruptly wearily. "I was…wrong, I was very wrong."

"So what is it, then?" I asked coolly, not exactly convinced.

Jacob stared at me contemplatively, the anger and bitterness never entirely leaving his face. Finally, he said, "I can't tell you."

I glared at him. "Why? I thought we were friends."

"We _were_," said Jacob emphatically.

"Charming," I said acidly. "Since did I become past tense to you? Or Jack, Rose, and the…Mr. Smith?"

At the mention of them, Jacob suddenly looked fierce.

"Yeah? What about them?" he challenged. Then, quick as a blink, his expression changed again and he looked speculative again–sarcastically so. "Strange, isn't it? The way he just seemed to pop out of nowhere. No questions asked–and just as those aliens started to come."

I gaped at him, horrified. "Are you implying that…?"

"I'm merely observing," said Jacob with that sarcastic tinge. "All _I _know is that he's trouble. I can sense it. I don't really think that's his real name. Mr. Smith…a bit too common for the likes of him." His gaze was intense. "I think they're hiding something."

I could hardly wrap my head around the idea. Jacob, suspecting the Doctor's identity? But why? How? And why now, precisely at this instant?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I answered coolly. "And you're probably wrong, anyway."

Jacob snorted. "Oh sure, play innocent, Bella."

"Don't expect me to tell you anything–if I have anything to tell–if you don't tell me what's happening with you," I snapped. "That's nothing less than hypocrisy." I saw Jacob flinch, but I plowed right on. "So, will you tell me or not?"

"I told you, I cannot tell you," he said through gritted teeth.

"Too afraid of your precious Sam?" I blurted out unthinkingly.

Jacob stiffened, his eyes flashing. "Don't blame Sam," he demanded. "He's helping me out as much as I can. He's the _only _one that can help me now." Jacob fixed his eyes on some invisible spot behind me, taking deliberate deep breaths. He was so mad his hands started to shake. Compassion washed through me.

"Jacob," I whispered. "Why won't you tell me what happened? I might help."

"I told you–no one can help me now," Jacob whispered as well, his voice desolate. It made my heart ache for him. Instinctively, I reached for him, but with lightning-quick reflexes he pulled back, his eyes slightly wider than before.

"Don't touch me," he said hoarsely.

"Is Sam catching?" I murmured, not helping myself. Jacob's rejection hurt more than it should have–tears prickled in the corners of my mind.

"Stop blaming Sam." His words were like a reflex.

"Then who should I blame?" I asked.

And with that question, Jacob changed from vulnerable to the bitter, angry Jacob that I was beginning to greatly detest.

"Oh, I can think of one," he said sardonically, but his eyes were tight again. "But you wouldn't want to hear it."

"On the contrary, I would," I retorted sharply. "I want to know, and I want to know _now_."

"You're wrong." Jacob gave a tight smile that was barely a smile at all, but a bleak, twisted mangled version of it.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong–I'm not the one being brainwashed! Tell me whom I should blame, if not Sam?"

Jacob's eyes narrowed and his words came biting and fast. "Well, you asked for it. If you want to know, why don't you point the blame at those filthy, _reeking_ bloodsuckers that you love so much?"

My breath came out in a loud _whoosh_, and I was knocked temporarily out of breath. I could vaguely feel the hole started to tear again from the inside out, but the twisting, tearing pain was for once in the background, and the foremost emotion was a numbing shock. I felt as though I'd entered into a weird episode of the Twilight Zone, only this was more real than I ever could've imagined. I stared at Jacob, trying to find a trace of uncertainty, of indecision. But all I saw was anger.

"I don't understand what you mean." My voice was barely audible, even to myself.

"Don't make me say it," said Jacob scornfully. "You don't want to hear it."

"I don't understand what you mean," I repeated, my voice a flat monotone.

"The _Cullens_," Jacob drew out, and then scrutinized my face. "There–I see what hearing the name does to you. Don't play innocent."

I didn't reply, could only shake my head back and forth in denial. How? How could Jacob–or at least my happy, good-natured Jacob–believe about vampires when he hadn't before? Was it Sam's cult? Were they a group of vampire-haters? What was the point of forming such a group when there was clearly no need of it now? While my head spun in answerless circles, I tried to form an appropriate response.

"Don't tell me you've been listening to your dad's old superstitions again," I said feebly, but too late.

"He knows a lot more than I gave him credit for."

"Honestly, Jacob."

He merely glared at me.

"Superstitions aside," I said quickly. "I don't see why you're blaming the…Cullens–" wince, tear, "–for. They've left months ago. How can you blame them for what Sam is doing now?"

"Sam isn't doing anything," Jacob said immediately. "And yes, I know _they're _gone. But…sometimes things get set in motion and…it's too late for it to change."

I was confused. "What's set in motion? What's too late? What exactly are you blaming the Cullens for?"

Jacob's dark eyes suddenly flashed, and his expression became fierce once again. "For existing," he hissed.

"Don't push him too far, Bella." Edward's voice suddenly appeared again, and I was temporarily distracted from Jacob's words. I hadn't thought my delusion would pop up precisely at _this _moment. It couldn't be Jacob–sure, he was an angry, bitter Jacob, but he was still Jacob. Where was the adrenaline, the danger?

"Give him a chance to calm down," Edward insisted.

I shook my head in confusion. "You're being ridiculous," I told them both.

"Fine." Jacob breathed deeply. "I won't bother convincing you. It doesn't matter anyway. The damage is done."

"_What damage?_"

Jacob didn't even flinch as I shouted the words at him.

"Let's head back," he suggested coolly. "There's clearly nothing more to say."

"No," I said incredulously. "There's everything more to say! You haven't said anything yet!"

He ignored me and started to walk back to Billy's house. I resorted to drastic measures.

"Mr. Smith told me that you were unstable!" I yelled.

That did it – Jacob froze, stopping right at his tracks.

"Mr. Smith warned me not to go you," I said, much softer now. I had a feeling Jacob could hear me even from a distance. "He told me that you were dangerous."

Jacob whirled around to face me, his face blank with shock.

I goaded him further. "He thinks you'd hurt me."

There was a silence. Then, gradually, Jacob's look of shock faded into his previous angry, bitter expression.

"So he knows," he whispered, almost inaudibly. Then, in three quick, long strides, he was suddenly in front of me. His black eyes burned a hole through me.

"Tell me," he said sardonically. "Who is this Mr. Smith anyway? Or should I say, _what _is he?"

"What do you think he is?" I retorted.

"Not who he says he is," Jacob said darkly. "And who that Harkness and Rose girl really are. And now…his so-called niece and nephew. All of them…they're just not _normal_."

"So, what?" I challenged. "You think they're freaks?"

Jacob gave me a bleak smile that was nothing like the smile I knew. "Maybe they are. If so, me and them have much more in common than I thought." Then he gave an odd, choked laugh.

I shook my head. "Please, Jacob…tell me what's wrong. If it's not Sam, then who is?"

Jacob was silent for such a long time that I thought he wouldn't answer. I was taken aback by his quiet, though ardent reply.

"Me."

I stared at him incomprehensively. Jacob suddenly whirled around to look behind him.

"I have to go," he murmured, and set off at a pace so brisk that I had to jog to keep up.

"Back to Sam!"

"That's one way of putting it," was the mumbled reply.

"Wait!" I called, chasing him back to the truck. He turned toward me and I flinched at the sight of his suddenly cold, bleak face.

"Go home, Bella," he said. "I can't hang out with you anymore."

For such an inconsequential hurt, it sure stung. Tears started welling up in my eyes again. "Are you…" I struggled for words. "Breaking up with me?" I ended lamely. The words were wrong, but it was best I could come up with that summed up what Jacob was doing.

Jacob let out a harsh, though desperate kind of laugh. "Hardly. If that were true, I'd say, 'Let's be friends.' We can't even be that anymore."

"Why are you doing this?" I choked out. "Is it because of Sam? Please Jacob, don't do this…I need you!" The emptiness and desolation of my previous state threatened to overcome me, and a lump grew in my throat.

"I'm sorry, Bella." Jacob's tone was as bleak as his face. "But I'm not good enough for you anymore."

"What? No!" I cried sharply. "How can you think that? It's me you don't deserve! Where'd you get that idea? Sam, right? Don't listen to him, Jacob!" Before I knew it, I was yelling again.

Jacob's face became hard. "No one had to tell me anything. I know what I am."

"What you _are_," I said fiercely, "is my friend. Don't…Jacob!"

But he already moved away from me. His hard face crumbled at seeing mine, and for one vulnerable moment I could see his pain and anguish in his hardened lines.

"Sorry," he whispered brokenly. "'Bye, Bells."

And he left, almost running into the house.

I couldn't do anything more than stare vacantly at the little house, impossibly hosting five large teenagers. Everything was still and silent. Not even a flutter of the curtain. It just stared back.

It started drizzling, the light raindrops hitting my cold face. The coldness was spreading throughout my body, but I could not move a single muscle. Jacob had to come back. He had to.

The rain was picking up now, slanting at an angle towards the west, and a wind started blowing, biting at my pale cheeks and every inch of exposed skin. Still I waited.

Finally, the door opened and Billy rolled out into the porch.

"Charlie just called. I told him you were on your way home." His dark eyes, so like Jacob's, were filled with pity.

That did it. I turned around without uttering a single word, and walked mechanically towards the truck.

Not as bad. Not as bad. It was my own personal, silent mantra. My already fractured heart was struggling to overcome yet another blow–and not doing so well.

It wasn't the end of the world, really. The rough equivalent had already occurred. No, it was simply the end of the small–but no less significant–part of the peace I had left in the world. And Jacob–warm, funny, dependable Jacob–simply wouldn't be part of that peace anymore.

The thought hurt a lot more than it should have. Too much.

I'd thought that Jacob was healing or plugging up the hole inside me, or at least a small part of it, along with the Doctor and the others. Everyday I've been getting better under their care, the hole beginning to numb itself for longer periods of time. But I was wrong. Instead, Jacob was carving his own, smaller hole, so that I was resembled more like Swish cheese than anything else. It was a miracle that I didn't crumble to pieces.

And of the Doctor and the others? Perhaps they too are carving their own holes, in the long run. After all, they were travelers–one day they'd be on their merry way and I'd be alone again, with the hole, and my own morbid company.

The thought hurt so much that I had to stop the truck, parking it on a side road so I can catch my breath. Leaning over the steering wheel, I greedily gulped down huge intakes of air, convulsing violently, the hole gnawing and ripping itself. The pain was so intense that I only vaguely heard the truck door open and close. But I did hear his soft voice.

"You went over to Jacob's, didn't you?"

I looked up shakily and saw the Doctor beside me. Even in the dim light, I could see his dark eyes held an immeasurable sadness that I could barely begin to comprehend. His eyes, centuries old, were incongruous to his young face and body. It was one of those times when I realized that the Doctor was not a human, no matter how much he looked and acted like one.

"Jack told me," he said softly–an answer to the question in my eyes.

I looked away from him, but only because I couldn't deal with his sympathy. I just couldn't scrounge up the energy to be mad at him.

"You were right," I told him hoarsely. "I shouldn't have gone to Jacob's." I trembled at saying his name.

To my weak surprise, however, the Doctor shook his head.

"You did what you felt compelled to do," he said. "Besides, everything that happens is meant to happen anyway." There was a pause, then he continued, in a kind voice, "Jacob will come 'round eventually."

I merely shook my head in negation, not bringing myself to hope. The Doctor did not question me, and there was silence in the truck for quite a moment. Finally, the Doctor broke the silence.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I'm all right," I said, trying to make my voice stronger and failing miserably.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at me. "All right, but if you crash and I die, I won't be responsible for what Rose will do to you."

I managed to smile weakly. The Doctor grinned briefly before becoming solemn again.

"Bella," he said earnestly. "Things will not stay this way between you and Jacob. Trust me."

I said nothing. Frankly, I did not know what to say or even think. I could only feel the aching pain and agony of the hole in my chest, reeling from yet another heartbreak, although smaller and less potent. I could at least be grateful for that. All I knew was that the Doctor's reassurances did little to pacify me.

It's never going to end, is it?

* * *

**A/N: Hmm…lovely place to end. With Bella angst! Because (and correct me if I'm wrong) you all love for Bella to suffer. Well, she's suffering now and will continue to suffer next chapter. Do I hear a 'yay'?**

**So…hope you like this one. Again, sorry for my lateness. Having mixed feelings about this chapter. I mostly hate it, though. For my sanity, I hope you don't and will review and tell me how much you like it so you can give me my daily ego boost, therefore encouraging me to write the next chapter. Speaking of which...review, or I'll feed you to the Malevens!**

**-cto10121**

**P.S. Also, I haven't tried this before...but sure, why not?**

* * *

_**Coming Soon:**_

_"Well, at least that settles it!" Jack's grin resembled a Jack-O-Lantern. "I like my men hairy!"_

_I never thought I'd ever want to puke just by hearing a sentence and the mental image accompanied with it, but ever since I met Jack the impossible has the strangest tendency to become possible. _

**

* * *

**

**Well, that was fun! :D**


	13. Truth

Daybreak  
by cto10121

Chapter Twelve-Truth

When I arrived home, Charlie was waiting for me on the porch. Billy had called him and told him about me and Jacob fighting. Something about my cold and empty expression frightened him–I tried not to think of what my face reminded him of.

As per my wishes, the Doctor decided to go back to the TARDIS, making me promise that I'd seek him out if things got too much. I did not intend to keep my promise, of course; my pain was my own, and I wasn't going to allow someone to feel it too. I would take on the burden myself.

Later, I overheard Charlie on the phone with Billy, arguing with him. From what I overheard, Billy was putting the blame all on me for somehow leading him on. Strangely enough, though I had thought of it, I did not think that was Jacob's problem. No, it was something much more serious than a petty, unrequited crush.

That night was hell on earth. Nothing compared to my moonless, pre-zombie nights, but it was hard enough. There was no lingering or residual warmth. Instead, the hole–and now the smaller one–returned with a vengeance and the pain was enough to paralyze me. The tears I'd been so busy restraining now poured freely from my eyes, hot and salty against my freezing cheeks. Images of this afternoon played over and over again in my mind–Jacob's angry, bitter face, the fateful, hurtful words he'd said to me, and the pain and agony when he'd said goodbye to me. Purposely, I did the forbidden and conjured up a fake memory of Edward's voice from this afternoon and the tears became a small flood. I continued until I was exhausted enough to fall asleep.

I didn't escape the nightmares. In the dream I was walking beside Jacob in the rain, in the same murky forest that I vaguely recognized as the forest the TARDIS was in. Jacob wasn't my Jacob, but the new, bitter, oddly graceful one that I had seen earlier. I was watching him, strangely detached, when all of a sudden he spoke.

"You really are messed up, Bella," he said with the same hostile, surly tone, and before my eyes he began to change. His skin became several shades lighter, his shorn hair lengthening and lightening to a dark brown. His build became skinnier, and a brown overcoat and a pinstriped suit suddenly appeared, clinging to his thin frame. His face became thinner, older, and handsome in an entirely different way, his nose longer, and his eyes became depthless and ageless. I stared, wide-eyed, at the Doctor.

"Only you, Bella," he said, fondly exasperated, shaking his head.

Then his eyes flashed golden, then crimson, then golden again. His brown hair became bronze and windswept, his build muscular again. His skin paled into an impossible shade of ivory and his face became so beautiful that it shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. But Edward was different than the Edward I knew. This Edward stared at me with hollow eyes conveying a heartbreaking sadness that I couldn't comprehend. Pain shot through the hole like an arrow straight at my heart.

"Bella…" he whispered, and his voice was as beautiful as I remembered from my delusions.

I automatically reached for him, but he shied away from me, almost cringing, a look of pure agony on his face. Then Edward disappeared.

Then I woke up and I was back in my dark room, half-asleep. I closed my eyes, preparing to drift off into what I hoped would be a dreamless sleep. Then I heard a high, screechy noise like fingernails on glass.

My eyes immediately flew open in fright, my brain still dizzy and muddled by exhaustion. I heard the high, screechy sound again and my mind immediately jumped to the Malevens. Ugly, red-eyed, they had the same high-pitched screech. But it sounded too much like fingernails on glass than anything else, and the Maleven were supposedly too stupid to locate and hunt down my scent. Only actual vampires would be able to…wait…

Blanching, I stumbled out of bed, my heart almost jumping out of my chest. Oh God, it wasn't happening. My nightmares were coming true.

Victoria.

She was here.

I am going to die.

Not Charlie too!

I started to hyperventilate, choking on my scream. It would do no good to alert Charlie. He'd come here and then…I couldn't even think it. Then I heard a familiar, husky voice.

"OUCH! Damn it, open the window! Bella–let me in–OW!"

It took all of two seconds to shake off the horror. Then somehow I managed to get my legs moving and open the window. The clouds were barely veiling the bright light from the moon so I could see each shape distinctly.

"What are you doing?!" I hissed.

Jacob was leaning precariously on a spruce tree that stood in the middle of Charlie's small backyard. His weight had made the tree bow towards the house, his feet dangling twenty feet from the ground. One of the branches scraped against the side of the house with a gravelly scrape.

"I'm trying–" he huffed, "to keep–my promise!"

I blinked my wet, bleary eyes in confusion, suddenly wondering if I was dreaming.

"Since when did you promise to kill yourself by falling off Charlie's tree?"

Jacob snorted, swinging his legs to regain his balance. "All right, stand back," he ordered.

"What?"

Jacob didn't answer, only swung his legs again, gaining a momentum. In a flash I realized what he was about to do.

"No, Jake!"

But I ducked to the side, for it was too late. Jacob propelled himself toward my open window, and I built a scream as I watched his inevitable death…

…Which did not come. Jacob neatly swung into my room, landing on the balls of his feet with a soft, barely perceptible _thud_. We both immediately looked at the door, waiting to see if the sound had woken Charlie. There was a brief moment of silence, then I heard Charlie's muffled snore.

Jacob grinned widely, smugly, stretching across his face, but it wasn't the happy, carefree grin that I knew and loved, but a new grin, just as bitter and sarcastic as the new Jacob was–it was Sam's grin.

That was it for me. I'd cried myself to sleep over this boy's harsh rejection, and with that he'd carved a new, painful hole out of the one I'd already had, adding more to the injury. He'd left a brand new nightmare behind him and worse, his entrance to my bedroom reminded me a lot of Edward and how he used to steal into my bedroom to watch me sleep–minus the awkwardness and noisiness. And there Jacob stood, smirking condescendingly, as though nothing had ever happened. All this, along with the fact that I was about to faint with exhaustion, did not put me into a conciliatory mood.

"Go away!" I snapped as loudly as I could under the present circumstances.

He blinked, surprised at my tone, then he frowned.

"No," he insisted. "I came to apologize."

"I _don't _accept!"

I tried to push him back, but gave up when he didn't budge. I took a step back, and saw Jacob clearly for the first time. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but the chilly wind from outside was enough to make me shiver. His skin was hot, as though he'd been standing by an open fire for too long. Or as though he had a fever. But he didn't look sick. He was absolutely enormous, towering over me and filling up my small bedroom.

Suddenly, I felt a wave of vertigo and my knees buckled. Exhaustion piled in my bones like lead and I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open.

"Bella?" Jacob said in alarm, and caught me by my elbow before I could sway again. He steered me towards my bed and I slumped down on it.

"You look awful, Bells," he stated bluntly, noting my pale face and bloodshot eyes.

I did not reply for a long moment. "What do you want, Jacob?"

Jacob flinched at my brusque tone, anguish filling his eyes. "Right. Well…I'm-I'm so sorry, Bella." Although his words were sincere, there was still that angry twist to his features.

"I don't want apologies from you, Jacob," I said, my tone softer now.

"I know," he whispered. "I just couldn't leave things the way I left them this afternoon. I'm sorry about that. It was cruel."

My shoulders slumped, all the fight leeching away from me. "I don't understand."

"I want to explain–" He cut off suddenly, sharply inhaling. He took a deep breath. "And yet I can't," he finished, frustration lacing his tone.

I stared at him incomprehensively. "Why?" I whispered.

He didn't reply, and there was a silence between us. Then his eyebrows narrowed, his lips pursing, teeth clenching; he looked as though he was concentrating hard on something. Surprised, I watched his expression carefully.

"What's wrong?"

He let out a sharp exhale. He set his mouth. "I can't do it," he muttered exasperatedly.

"Do what?"

Jacob scrutinized me. "Bella, haven't you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone? Not Charlie or your mom…or even me?"

I looked away from his knowing eyes, my thoughts in a whirlwind. There it was again–how could he have known or guessed? I pursed my lips, not intending to answer his question.

"Do you see? Can you understand that I have that same…situation?" He paused, and when he spoke, he seemed to choose his words carefully. "Sometimes loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes it's not your secret to tell."

Jacob got me stumped. How could I answer to that? He was absolutely right. The secret wasn't mine to tell, yet something I was bound to protect. But I protected the Cullens' secret out of love. And Jacob was protecting his out of…what? Coercion?

I was interrupted from my thoughts, however, by a loud knock on the door.

Jacob and I jumped, our eyes wide and our nerves suddenly taut. I felt my heart palpitate wildly. My mind immediately jumped to Charlie, and I visibly blanched. But it wasn't Charlie that came in through the door almost immediately after. It was Jack.

Jack froze when he saw Jacob and I sitting on the bed, his eyes widening and his mouth opening with a small _pop_. Jacob and I stared at Jack while Jack stared back. Then a slow grin started to appear on Jack's lips.

"Well, well, well," he said slyly. "What an unexpected camaraderie! I don't know what you guys were doing before I got here, but whatever it was…mind if I join?"

It took a few seconds before my sleep-deprived mind to catch the innuendo but when it did, I blushed hotly, mortified by the very thought of it.

"Jack!" I hissed, mortified. "We are–it's not–we are not _doing _anything!"

Jack didn't seem to be listening to me. His Jack Grin, in fact, widened a couple of molars.

"I never thought you had it in you, Bella!" he said gleefully, beaming at me. Actually _beaming _at me. "I'm sorry I ever thought you were a stick-in-the-mud!"

"I'm telling you, Jack, it's not like that!" I said fervently.

"Whatever, Bells," said Jack, rolling his eyes. "But really, why hadn't you thought to invite _me_? You know I'm a sucker for threesomes!"

"Jack–" I started to say, but Jacob finally found his tongue.

"What are _you _doing here?" he demanded, looking at him with a hostile expression on his face.

"Jacob, shh!" I shushed, hearing Charlie's snores still. We were silent for a long moment, and then Charlie's snores picked up again. I sighed in relief.

"Okay, Jack, what are you doing here?" I said, making sure my voice was low.

"Doc's orders," said Jack simply. "Seemed you looked a mess–well, you _are _a mess, but you get the idea–so he decided to have me as his lapdog and check up on you."

My breath caught. The Doctor's concern was unexpected; he usually didn't indulge in such displays of concern, no matter how casually or flippantly Jack described it. I didn't know how to react.

"Who's 'Doc'?" asked Jacob suspiciously.

"Oh, our nickname for Mr. Smith," answered Jack dismissively. It was admirable how quickly he recovered.

"Right," said Jacob shortly, his face disbelieving. "Do you make it a habit of this?"

"Again with the dirty mind," teased Jack, making sure to lightly close the door. "You're starting to make me look like a saint, Jakey-boy."

"Don't call me that," snapped Jacob, glowering at Jack.

"All right, lover boy," said Jack easily, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever you say. Budge up, will you?"

And he sat down between me and Jacob, with Jacob hurrying to make room, his face twisted in a black scowl.

"There," said Jack happily. "Ain't this just cozy? I just love being in the middle."

I blushed, as per usual, faced with Jack's innuendo.

"So, what's up?" he asked.

"Jake was trying to tell me what's happening," I explained wearily, burying my face in my hands out of exhaustion.

"Oh that," said Jack suddenly, his tone strange. Jacob abruptly stood up, making me jump in surprise. His face was suddenly agonized again.

"So you know?" he said hoarsely.

"Know what?" Jack looked the epitome of innocence, and neither Jacob nor I believed him for a second.

"Don't lie! That Mr. Smith told you, didn't he? _Didn't he_?"

"Jake!" I cried, alarmed, watching his body convulse. "Calm down."

Jacob took several deep breaths, and the trembling that racked his body slowly faded.

"You really should learn how to reign in your temper," pointed out Jack, looking and sounding perfectly calm. But Jacob flinched as though Jack had thrown something solid at him, and glared at him.

"What are you guys talking about?" I demanded, losing my patience.

"She doesn't know?" Jack stared incredulously at Jacob.

"I was leading up to it," Jacob said defensively.

"Leading up to what?" I asked, confused.

"Jacob's top-secret secret," Jack replied cheerfully.

"That you already _know_." Jacob suddenly groaned, burying his face in his hands. "That's what so frustrating about it all!"

"What do you mean I already know it?" I asked, my head reeling. I forced my eyes to remain open. "If I'd known it, I wouldn't be so darn confused!"

"You do," said Jacob fiercely. "I just need to jog your memory." He stared at me intently, his dark eyes locking with mine.

"Do you remember that day at the beach?" Jacob asked.

I nodded. Of course–that was the day when Jacob told me the legend of the cold ones, and inadvertently revealed to me that Edward was a vampire.

As though he heard my thoughts, he froze, his expression morphing into shock.

"So that's how you knew," he said bitterly. "I told you, didn't I? I practically handed it all on a silver platter!"

I said nothing, my lips firmly shut. Jack looked from me to Jacob and back again, his expression highly amused.

"I still don't understand how this is relevant," I pointed out.

Jacob sighed. "Bella, remember the other tribal stories that came before…_that _one?"

I tried. I really did. But I couldn't for the life of me remember the inconsequential prelude Jacob had begun with. Plus, my mind wasn't exactly firing on full pistons. Wearily, I shook my head.

Jacob swore softly under his breath. Jack sniggered. I could see the effort of ignoring him playing out in Jacob's face.

"Are you sure, Bella?" he asked, almost pleadingly, his ebony eyes staring into mine, as though he hoped they would convey the secret he had hid for so long. I stared blankly back.

"Tough luck, lover boy," said Jack, smirking. "Accept defeat."

"_Don't_," Jacob growled, "call me _lover boy_."

Jack's eyebrows shot up so high they were in danger of disappearing into his forehead. "Why not? It's either that or Sexy Beast."

Once again, I was puzzled over the strange inner workings of Jack's mind. Jacob stared at Jack as though he'd just confessed a desire to become a ballerina.

"Why don't you go get yourself a girlfriend or boyfriend and stop being so damned irritating?" Jacob said through gritted teeth. "I'd really hope you'd make yourself scarce, and do it quickly."

"Oh, you know me," said Jack airily. "I can never settle for someone. I'm like a wolf. A lone wolf." And with that he winked roguishly at Jacob.

I just rolled my eyes. Really, Jack made the strangest comments. I could never make out half of what he–

_Wolf. _

I suddenly froze. I inhaled sharply. My head snapped up reflexively and I was hit with a wave of vertigo. I suddenly couldn't breathe. Jacob and Jack stared at me, confused about my intense reaction. But that was the least of my worries. The epiphany was more important.

Wolf. I have heard that before–a year ago or so, but it seemed like a lifetime ago, or another life entirely. I had been wrong when I told Jacob that I remembered when we first met, at the beach. I remembered, but not wholly. With this simple word, I remembered everything, even the beginning. Every single word, every expression, ran through my mind in a flash, yet I understood everything. It was all suddenly so clear.

I wasn't sure what my face looked like, but it was bad enough for Jacob's face to darken, his expression tense.

"Now you've done it," he said, almost accusingly. I knew he wasn't talking to me.

Jack coolly arched an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted her to know. That's why you were dropping all those anvil-sized hints, right?"

Jacob didn't reply. Instead, his shoulders slumped, his expression growing more and more somber as he watched me. All of a sudden, I just couldn't look at him.

"So much for knowing," I heard him whisper, his voice choked and filled with pain. A spasm tore through me at the sound. "I have to go. Just…call me when you've decided, all right?" His voice broke on the last word.

I could only nod mechanically. I felt rather than heard Jacob's departure–the heat that emanated from his body disappeared and I heard a distant soft _thud _where his feet touched the ground outside. Now that I knew the reason for his newfound gracefulness, I couldn't help but find it unnatural. There was a brief moment of silence between Jack and I, who'd stayed put.

"Now, Bells, that was hitting below the belt," murmured Jack.

Through my numbness I felt a stab of shock. "What?"

Jack eyed me disapprovingly. "You do realize that you had just rejected lover boy for something that he has no control over, right? Or did I interpret that wrong?"

I sighed. I should have known Jack would take Jacob's side, regardless of whatever flirtation he would throw at Jacob. And I would have seen Jack's side, if briefly, if I weren't still reeling from the tumultuous epiphany I just had.

How could this be happening? A werewolf–Jacob? The idea of my Jacob, warm, funny, lovable–although not as of late–with the idea of a werewolf–huge, sharp-toothed monsters–was incongruous, absurd, ridiculous…and yet it was true. Jacob, my normal friend, who was nothing but Jacob, the only human I've ever felt a connection with…and he wasn't even human.

An actual scream rose up in my throat, and shattered the air. Jack, leaping into action, put his hand on my mouth, cutting off the scream.

"Shh!" he whispered harshly. "Are you mad?"

We were silent, straining our ears to listen. Charlie's snores had been cut off abruptly, and the house was dead silent. Minutes tricked by slowly, but we didn't hear Charlie's heavy footsteps. Presently, his snores resumed. Jack removed his hand from my mouth.

"He's used to it," I said unemotionally, as if in explanation. "The screams…"

Jack stared at me with an odd look on his face. I recognized the look immediately–it was fear. Or more precisely, fear for my surely nonexistent sanity.

I didn't blame him. What the hell was _wrong _with me? I knew I had already said that–yelled it, actually–but the situation was enough that I wanted to reiterate it. I then remembered, all too clearly, my words when the Doctor revealed himself to be a time-travelling alien who saved worlds on a daily basis: _What next? _I'd shouted hysterically. _Jacob a werewolf or Angela a witch? _

I did not appreciate the irony. I had said it as an impossibility, as a bitter joke–a joke that just came true, whether by my jinxing or by some other force that made me say such a thing. Next thing I know, Angela would turn out to really _be _a witch…I almost winced at the thought.

Had something gone wrong with my head? For me to care so much about vampires, Time Lords, and now werewolves…for me to befriend them, trust them, love them…it wasn't right, it wasn't _normal_. And the humans I do get close to either turn out to be mythical creatures–Jacob was brought to mind–or are not normal themselves, like Rose and Jack. Only Angela was the exception, if she didn't suddenly walk around with a wand in her pocket and shouting spells in Latin.

In other words, I was abnormal. A freak. Edward was right in leaving me. I was only a silly, weird little human to him. Who was I to blame him?

"Bella?" Jack's voice was appalled. "What the...are you _crying_?"

* * *

On my insistence, Jack reluctantly left, making me promise to shout out if I ever needed him. He looked quite shaken–I must have really looked a mess.

Although I was purely exhausted, it was a while before I fell asleep. My dreams involved the russet-colored wolf, an anguished looking Edward, and the Doctor, who was surrounded by a bright golden light…

I woke up, way too early to be considered normal, but I couldn't fall back asleep. My mind was acutely alert, and filled with a purpose: I needed to see Jacob.

I dressed quickly, urgently, skipping three, four steps at a time on the way down. I almost bumped into Charlie while skidding on the hallway, heading towards the door.

"Where're you going?" he asked, surprised. "Don't you know what time it is?

"Yeah," I said shortly. "I have to go see Jacob."

"Now? I thought the thing with Sam–"

"Doesn't matter," I interrupted, almost tripping over my words. "I have to talk to him _now_."

His eyebrows pulled together as he noticed my determined look. "Don't you want any breakfast?"

"Not hungry," I said swiftly. I briefly considered ducking around him and making a run for it, but it would be a hassle to explain later. "I'll be back soon."

His frown deepened. "Straight to Jacob's house, right? No stops on the way?"

"Of course not, where would I stop?"

"It's just…there's been another attack," Charlie admitted. "It's the wolves again. There's a witness this time. The victim's wife saw a huge gray wolf just a few minutes after the attack, and ran for help."

My face turned the color of sour milk. "A wolf attacked him?"

"There's no sign of him. Just a little blood on the ground, again." Charlie's face became pained. "Mr. Smith was the first to hear the wife's call."

"He was there?" My voice squeaked.

"Yeah. He led the rangers." His tense face relaxed somewhat. "You know, he's quite good at detective work for an English teacher. Anyway, there's a reward being offered for wolf carcasses, and a lot of eager hunters. That's going to mean a lot of firepower out there in the forest, and it worries me. People get too excited and accidents happen…"

Charlie stopped as he caught sight of my face. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't answer. I was too busy reeling from the new information. I had far from forgotten about the missing hikers, but ever since the Maleven had attacked the gym, I had assumed that the Maleven and even Victoria were behind those attacks.

But what if…what if the wolves were behind the attack too?

"Look, don't let this scare you, Bells," said Charlie reassuringly. "Just stay in town or on the highway. No stops, okay?"

"Okay," I replied weakly.

"I've got to go," said Charlie, and I noticed, for the first time, that he had his gun strapped to his waist and hiking boots on.

"You aren't going after the wolves, are you, Dad?" I was alarmed.

"I've got to help, Bells. People are disappearing."

My voice shot up two octaves, almost hysterical. "No! Don't go. It's too dangerous! Mr. Smith can take care of it." He was, of course, a 900-year-old alien Time Lord. But Charlie was just…Charlie. My mind rejected the idea.

"Yeah, well, Mr. Smith will need all the help he can get," said Charlie grimly. "I've got a job to do, kid. Don't be such a pessimist–I'll be fine." Turning to the door, he hesitated. "You leaving?"

I hesitated. What could I say to stop him? My mind spun in dizzying circles.

"Bella?"

"Maybe it is too early to go to La Push," I whispered.

"I agree," he said, and he was gone, stepping out of the rain and shutting the door behind him.

I dropped to the floor like a marionette that had just gotten its strings cut, resting my head on my knees. What should I do? Go after Charlie? What would I say?

And Jacob…he was my best friend. If he really was a–wince–werewolf, then people would be shooting at him! I needed to warn him and his friends before they go and get themselves killed. Charlie was out there…surely at least Jacob would care about that? Either way, I had to warn him.

Or…did I?

Jacob was my best friend, but was he a monster as well? A real, bad one? If so, should I warn him, if he and his friends were…murderers? Would it be wrong to protect them if they went out every day and slaughtered innocent strangers in cold blood?

In a way, it was inevitable to compare Jacob with the Cullens and the Doctor. The hole prickled again, as I thought of them, and I wrapped my arms around my chest for the hundredth time.

Admittedly, I did not know anything about werewolves. Real live ones, of course. If I had expected anything, I would have thought their mythology would be closer to the movies. I didn't know if it was hunger or thirst or the desire to kill that made them hunt. Not knowing that, it was hard to judge.

But it surely couldn't be worse than what the Cullens endured. I thought of Esme–thick tears ran down my cheeks when I thought of her sweet, lovely face–and how, as motherly and loving as she was, she had had to hold her nose, ashamed, and run from me when I was bleeding. I thought of Carlisle, and of the centuries he'd had to endure, ignoring the tempting smell of blood so he could save lives as a doctor. It couldn't get harder than that.

And probably wouldn't be worse than what the Doctor endured. Although he was a super-intelligent alien Time Lord, I could scarcely think of the thousands and millions of lives that had been lost, all because he wasn't fast enough or was a nanosecond too late. All of the 900-and-plus-year-old guilt, piled upon his shoulders, painfully poignant if unnecessary. And yet he continued to travel and saving worlds and lives, never stopping, never hesitating, even though he brings as much death and destruction as he saves lives. Not, surely, as hard as that.

The werewolves had made their choice. Now, all that was left was mine.

* * *

**A/N: Hmm…to end or not to end? That is the question…**

**Eh, I'll end it here. You guys have waited long enough. Sorry about that, by the way. :(**

**Well, I hope you aren't disappointed by this chapter and I do hope I spiced it enough for you and was not a complete bore...I hope...**

**Anyway, since I'm lazy, I'm contemplating on just skipping the part where Bella and Jacob reconcile and blah blah blah. Well, I'll only do it if you guys want to. So tell me if you want me to summarize the whole reconciliation scene or if you want me to go through with it. The next chapter will be mostly Bella summarizing her numerous visits at La Push and all that jazz. I'm going to zip through it like a shot. Yes, I'm very eager to get to the part where Bella goes cliff diving and where Edward finally returns!! **

**IMPORTANT MESSAGE CONCERNING A ONE EDWARD ANTHONY MASEN CULLEN…!**

**Okay, so read this carefully because this is important: You all know about the phone call interrupting Jacob and Bella's near kiss (yay for the phone call!), right? Well, right after the phone rings, I'm planning to switch to Edward's POV. Yes, I know that Meyer already wrote when Edward made the phone call, but trust me, mine will be different. I'm even changing a detail that will _definitely_ catch your notice…not telling what, though. *smirks mischievously***

**My take on Edward will probably be a little bit darker (if I know myself and I fancy I do) than Stephanie Meyer's Edward because for some odd reason I love Dark/Suicidal Edward *fans herself*. I'll try hard to keep him in character. I'm really excited and nervous at the same time because, well, I haven't really done Edward's point of view and you all know he's a hard character to write…but really, what do you guys think? Think it's a good idea? **

**Well, I suppose that's it! Leave me your thoughts regarding this chapter and answers to both these questions in…guess what? A review! Remarkable concept, that. ;) **


	14. Cliff Diving

**A/N: So sorry for the late update! I've just been…busy…oh, what the hell. It's time for the truth: I __****have ****been busy, but not so much as though to render me unable to write. Blame school. And no, not because it was being a b-i-t-c-h, but because it made us read one of my favorite literature books of all time: "A Tale of Two Cities." **_**Hallelujah! **_**I've always loved that book (it's the epitome of awesomeness, after all) ever since I read it in the seventh grade, and the fact that they were making my classmates read it brought a surge of sadistic pleasure in me. I also had the pleasure of falling in love with it all over again. (A side note, si vous plait: Sydney Carton is mine. Unequivocally, consummately **_**mine**_**. And Charles Darnay should rot in hell. 'Nough said.) With that being said, I went into that old obsession and even wrote fanfiction. Check it out if you're interested! (Another side note: Charles Dickens rules. Yeah.) **

**And I fell into yet another old obsession: Dragonball Z. I've forgotten its wonderful awesomeness. *sighs lovingly* **

**But hey, I'm surprised that I even updated, considering that I have a Biology project due on Wednesday and stuff…I worked on it for most of Saturday. So yeah. Be grateful you won't have to wait five more days, eh? **

**Thanks to all the people who reviewed and who are patient. All of you are wonderful! **

**Now, let's blow this popsicle stand and R&R!**

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is an excellent green literature quotes tote bag that I've fallen in love with. And a stuffed, narcissistic pig. 'Nough said. **

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Thirteen – Cliff Diving

That all happened weeks ago.

My revelation on Jacob's werewolf status was correct – but my idea of Jacob and his friends being the ones attacking all those people turned out to be far from the truth. Looking back on my hasty judgment is not something I can do without feeling a bit of shame or embarrassment. But that was the past – and I've never been one to harp on it for so long.

It had been inevitable for me to go to La Push and warn Jacob of the hunters in the forest. All the vulnerability I've seen before had completely vanished from Jacob's features. He was angry, belligerent, throwing bitter accusations at me, which caused me to react defensively. We fought for nothing. Nothing because we had so blatantly misunderstood each other. Jacob wasn't a monster, and I didn't care about him turning into some giant wolf. The tenseness had quickly dissipated and we were friends again. Back to normal – or as normal as we could get under the new circumstances.

From then on I was a wolf girl of sorts, I suppose. Everything seemed to have fallen into place, or nearly into place. Entrance into Jacob's werewolf world was overwhelming and uncomfortable, and I was at first hesitant and tentative. Watching Paul and Jacob phase into giant wolves and fight each other almost gave me cardiac arrest. But it was after, at Emily's – Sam's fiancée's – warm kitchen with the pack together that I saw the warmth, the camaraderie, the brotherly, almost familial bond between them, like a made-shift family of sorts.

There were things, however, that I didn't like – such as Jacob and his friends hunting down Victoria and the Malevens. It was a frightening thing to contemplate, unbearable. I could not reconcile Jacob fighting with Victoria. It was absolutely terrifying.

It was strange, belonging to two worlds – that of Jacob's and the Doctor's. In many ways I was lucky, but my heart, I knew, would always belong to that third world, forever closed to me. But what I did not foresee was the coexistence of two worlds – namely, the Doctor's catalytic decision to reveal his true identity to the pack.

I was more than surprised – I was shocked. I think everyone was. It was a miracle that the Doctor was not harmed. Wolves were extremely volatile. Only Sam had the experience necessary to stay calm and listen. It took a lot for the Doctor to prove his alien background, and a lot more to prove his trustworthiness. In the end, though, the pack agreed to let him help with hunting down Victoria and the Malevens, along with Rose and Jack. I was consumed with guilt over how all these people, people I cared about, was out risking their lives just to keep me safe. I knew that I was _not _worth it. But I couldn't persuade them otherwise, not even a little bit.

Jacob was especially stubborn, especially in his lack of tolerance towards the Doctor. He had known something wasn't right about him and he was right. He should've known better to persuade me to stop hanging out with him, though; it proved absolutely useless. He behaved almost insolent towards the Doctor, but the Doctor didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed more amused than anything else. Jack was as well, but Rose wasn't in the least. She often glared at Jacob, and I could almost hear her respect for him drop a few degrees at that. She, like I was initially, didn't favor this new, dark Jacob. I understood – at times I could see Sam's Jacob appear in Jacob's face, and I hated it. I still did.

Out of everyone, it was Nova and Rigel who were accepted (apart from Rose, of course, since she was human, and not a 900-year-old alien Time Lord or a bisexual immortal from the 51st century). It was strange, for it was almost certain that Nova and Rigel weren't exactly human, as they traveled in a TARDIS (the Doctor still maintained adamantly that it was his TARDIS) and they were from the future. Or perhaps they were human and things were very, very, _very _advanced in the future. Either way, they fitted into almost seamlessly into the fabric of the pack's life, when they wanted to. It was their charm, I deduced, and their kind of innocence, especially in Nova. There was, of course, resistance in the part of Paul and sometimes Jacob – although he didn't have a problem with them, he could sense that they weren't exactly, well, _normal_.

Life became even more hectic now that I was part of Jacob's world. Charlie was pleased that I was going out so much and that I didn't retreat back to that cocoon-like state. In turn I kept him oblivious, for his sake. The killings were still happening, but had slowed down some. Victoria and the Malevens still remained elusive. And the Doctor was getting more and more eccentric in his English classes. He made _The Scarlet Letter _seem like an entire joke and he completely skewered Steinbeck's _Of Mice and Men_. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

It was the brightest part of my world of darkness. Jacob and the Doctor had both shown me the brightness, the warmth, the beauty of the world around me, and I am indebted to them for that. However, I don't think they or anyone could be able to rid me of that dark cold hole which I would have to put up with for the rest of my life. Still, it was something. And that something was everything and absolutely nothing at all.

* * *

It was one of our – Jacob and I – rare free afternoons together…and we couldn't think of anything to do. Figures.

"How 'bout we ride the bikes?" he suggested.

"Nah," I decided. I had grown adept at riding a motorcycle, but on that particular afternoon I just didn't feel like riding. "How about we visit the Doctor in the TARDIS?"

Jacob immediately grimaced. I knew he was thinking about the time when he and the pack had first stepped into the TARDIS – the Doctor was then trying to prove that he was indeed an alien. He succeeded a bit too well; the pack completely freaked out. Sam politely told the Doctor that it would be better if the TARDIS just remained in Forks. Jacob never mentioned it as far as he could help it.

"Are you kidding?" was his incredulous reply.

"Sure," I said. "It's perfectly safe. I've been in it loads of times. I've even explored it a bit."

"Sure, sure," Jacob said in his usual patronizing tone. "I bet you got in a lot of sticky spots, though, you being you."

"The TARDIS wouldn't let anything happen to me," I said confidently. "Even my bad luck."

Jacob shook his head. "I still don't believe it's living."

"Don't mention that to the Doctor," I joked.

We fell silent. Then Jacob grinned.

"I've got it."

"What is it?" I asked, curious.

"A promise I made you long ago," replied Jacob. "Cliff diving," he added in explanation to my blank face.

I brightened up. "Really?" I said excitedly.

"I did promise you, didn't I?" Jacob said, amused.

I gave one unusually large smile. "Thanks Jake." It's been too long since I heard Edward's voice; I was addicted to it. Besides, I was curious about how it would feel, cliff-diving. I could literally feel the exhilaration, the freedom, the sting of adrenaline...

"It's a date, then," said Jacob, smiling his half-Jacob, half-Sam's smile.

* * *

I awoke the next morning and sneaked off to La Push to Jacob's home. Billy, who had answered the door, informed me that Embry, Jared, and Paul had crossed a new lead and Sam and Jacob had gone off to help. The Doctor and the others had been informed, of course, and had also gone to see if they could help. My worry overtook the insignificant disappointment I felt. No, it was more than worry – it was akin to panic. Billy tried to reassure me, with no results.

Feeling claustrophobic in the small house, I headed down to the beach. It didn't help much – the gray, angry sky and the total stillness and silence made me feel even edgier. There wasn't even a wind. The dark turbulent sea crashed against the rocks, but there was still no wind. I was going out of my mind.

I tried not to think of Jacob and his wolf brothers out there, risking their lives. I tried not to think of the Doctor and the others with them, risking _their _lives. I tried not to think of the hole in my chest starting to prickle uncomfortably. I tried not to think of the unmistakable lure of cliff diving…the falling, graceful bodies…the raw freedom…Edward's velvet voice in my ear…

Well, why not? Jacob was unavailable, but that didn't mean I should sacrifice a distraction I desperately needed, needed more because of his absence. I could not go running to the Doctor and the others for comfort, as they were not available. No, it was time I stopped running to others and instead learned to fly. Cliff diving would enable that. The thought made me jog back to Billy's house, where my truck was waiting.

It was perhaps the stupidest, most reckless thing I've ever done, including the motorcycles. The thought made me smile. I could feel the pain slowly retreating, as though my body instinctively knew Edward's voice wasn't far in coming.

The ocean sounded distant, muted when I was in the path in the trees. The water, I knew, would be extremely cold, but I didn't let that deter me. Edward was waiting.

I couldn't look down at the depths below. I just stared straight ahead, caressing the rough edge of the rock with my foot. The wind was stronger now. I stood there…waiting.

"Bella."

I felt my lips curve into a smile, and I exhaled. _Yes? _He sounded so real, so close, so _wonderful_. I felt better than I have felt in quite a while.

"Don't do this."

_You wanted me to be human, _I pointed out. _Watch me. _

"Please. For me."

_But you won't stay with me any other way._

"Please." It was a whisper now.

I rolled up onto the balls of my feet, my body tensing.

"No, Bella!" Fury coated his voice, and it was so beautiful.

I smiled again and leaned forward, crouching slightly – feet first, this time. My heart was calm, in full anticipation of what I was about to do. I closed my eyes. And then I flung myself off the cliff.

I felt the fierce wind trying to pull me up, but it was not strong enough for the unconquerable gravity pulling me down like a magnet. I screamed, but out of pure exhilaration.

_Yes! _I thought triumphantly as I sliced into the black water. I felt the freezing cold seep through my skin, but I didn't mind it. Pride filled me at my accomplishment. I hadn't had a moment of terror, just adrenaline. The fall wasn't that scary at all. Really, what was the challenge?

Then the current caught me.

I had been so busy thinking about the fall that I hadn't paid attention to the watery depths below, and the increasing danger of the turbulent waters. I hadn't noticed the true menace that lay underneath.

I felt like the waves were tearing me apart, pulling me in halves. I couldn't tell what was up or what was down. I couldn't even tell the direction of the surface. Everything was pitch black on all sides. I struggled to keep my lips firmly shut so as not to gulp a drop of water, or let out a single breath or air.

"Keep swimming!" The delusion was still there, in my last moments, pleading urgently.

_Where_? There was nothing but darkness. There was nothing to swim to.

"Don't think like that!" he ordered. "Don't you dare give up!"

Although my legs and arms were numb with cold, although my head started spinning around in time with my weak body, I listened to him. I continued to kick and reach with my arms uselessly, spinning in a whole new direction each time. It was all hopeless. I was going to drown. I _was _drowning. It was inevitable.

"No!" Edward yelled. "Fight! Damn it, keep fighting!"

_Why? _

I did not want to fight anymore. I did not want to fight against the inevitable. I was content where I was, even as my body gave way to exhaustion. Oddly…peaceful. Just floating there in the water, still rocking. All I wanted was to rest. To sleep.

I thought briefly of the usual things seen in near-death experiences, life flashing before eyes and all that. I was much luckier. I saw something much infinitely better.

I saw _him_. Edward, in all his glory, appeared behind my eyelids. Whatever remnants of my will to live were gone. He was so clear, so real…his cold pale skin; his flawless, symmetrical face; the beauty that was uniquely his…His golden eyes flashing with anger, his tense jaw, his livid expression. Of course he would be.

"No, Bella, no!"

I could still hear him perfectly, even though my ears were clogged up with freezing water. I was more than content – I was completely, consummately happy. And it wasn't the bouts of short-lived happiness that I experienced. It was a glowing, radiant happiness that filled my very core, a happiness that even filled the hole. Real happiness. The term "die happy" was no longer figurative.

At that moment I felt the current slamming me into something…soft, but firm, very firm – like iron. What little remaining breath I had whooshed out of my lungs and water entered my throat like fire. The warm iron seemed to be dragging me down, deep into the impenetrable darkness, away from Edward, away from everyone. I knew it was time.

_Goodbye. I love you. _

* * *

At that moment my head broke the surface. Oh. I thought I was going die. How disorienting.

"_Bella_!"

The current still wouldn't let up, hitting my exhaustion-laden body, the water burning my throat and my lungs, water still clogged up in my ears. And yet I remained in one place, and I still heard that cry. It seemed familiar, somehow. Definitely a female.

"Get her to shore!" commanded another, deeper voice, that of a male.

Their voices were suddenly recognizable to me; I felt a hot stab of pain – pain because it was not Edward. I felt myself being dragged by the same warm iron – a tight grip, I knew – and I realized couldn't feel the fierce current anymore. The surface I was laying on was flat and still. I heard the quiet _whoosh _of the water going out of my lungs. The hand thumped my back and I choked out some of the water out of my burning lungs, seeing black spots in my vision.

"It's all my fault," murmured Nova. It was amazing how I could hear her, over the sounds of my coughing. "I should've remembered in time…"

"And if we had remembered sooner?" Rigel shot back. "I don't think we would have resisted the temptation to save her. Warned her or something. You know what would have happened if we did."

"Yeah," said Nova heavily. "I just feel bad that we let it happen…"

Rigel said nothing, but gave one final thump. I gave one loud, hacking cough, my throat and lungs burning like hell. But the water was finally gone – I could now breathe.

"Rigel," I tried to say. It sounded so hoarse and guttural.

"Bella, are you all right?" Rigel asked, evidently relieved.

"Of course she is, Rigel," chirped Nova in her usual flippant voice. "She'd only had another near-death experience. She'd only tried to suicide herself. Everything's just peachy."

"I don't know why I have you along," said Rigel sulkily, "if you're going to be so insensitive."

My mind swirled in confusing swirls. I was finally able to open my eyes, with difficulty. I could then see the dark gray clouds streaming the sky, Rigel's face to the right, and a long, ample strand of fine blonde hair to the left. For one strange moment I wildly thought of Rose.

"Ah, you're awake." Nova's face suddenly appeared in my line of vision. Her face was tense, but she was smiling in evident relief.

"What? You thought she would never wake up?" Rigel teased.

"Sod off, Ry," snapped Nova, but in clear good spirits. It was evident that they were euphoric, drunk with relief.

"She must be cold," said Rigel suddenly. As soon as he said it I suddenly felt the thousand icy needles stinging my body at once and that – I realized – I have been ignoring.

"Of course she must," said Nova, with a bite of impatience. "She just– Ry!"

"What?"

"What is that, over there?" Nova looked and sounded panicky.

Rigel looked at the same direction Nova was facing. He blanched. "Oh, _shit_."

This caught my attention – Rigel was never one to swear. With great effort, I managed to turn my head about two inches. I could see something out of my peripheral vision – a sort of a bright orange-red spot poking out of the gray water – but I couldn't identify it. It looked almost like a flame.

Suddenly, there came a distant shout. "_Nova, Rigel_!"

"Right here!" Nova called over her shoulder. Relief coated her voice once more.

"Not a word to the Doctor," Rigel hissed at Nova, who nodded immediately.

"D-Doctor?" I said feebly through chattering teeth. It was the only word I was able to fully comprehend.

I felt the sloshing sound of footsteps on the mushy, grainy sand and suddenly the Doctor, along with Rose, Jack, Jacob, and – and this surprised me – Sam.

"Bella, are you all right?" said the Doctor in a tight, tense voice. "Is anything hurting?"

"N-no," I answered weakly. "J-just my throat. I'm fine."

The Doctor didn't seem to take my word seriously, for he took out his Sonic Screwdriver to deliver a clearer definition on "fine." My eyes scrunched up as he shone the blue light on my eyes.

"A bit of corrosion in the trachea and larynx, some soreness in the muscle, temperature about twenty degrees lower than normal – ooh, that's not good –" The Doctor grimaced, then continued his fast mumblings. "A nasty bit of salt, but that can be remedied, but no injuries as far as I can see…" The whirring suddenly stopped and the Doctor pocketed his screwdriver in his jacket pocket. "I think she'll be fine."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"You can go back to the hospital, Sam," said Jacob. "I'll join you later." Sam nodded

"Hospital?" I immediately thought of Victoria and the Malevens, and felt sick to my stomach. "What happened? Did someone get injured? And Victoria?"

"No, the pack's fine," said Jacob. "The leech took off into the water – the bloodsuckers have the advantage there. That's why we came back. We were afraid that she was going to double back swimming."

"Then, what is it?" I asked. I looked into his pain-filled eyes and agonized face and felt my heart constrict painfully.

"It's Harry Clearwater," Jacob said finally in an odd, strangled voice. "He…had a heart attack."

* * *

The rain had stopped. I hadn't realized we were at Jacob's house until Jacob walked though the door. Nova and Rigel were the only ones with us; the Doctor, Rose, and Jack accompanied Sam to the hospital, the Doctor preparing to do what he liked to do most: save lives. I hoped desperately that the Doctor would help Harry Clearwater recover. The guilt I had over my impulsive, stupid cliff diving was overwhelming, and I hoped for Charlie's sake – and Sue's, and Leah's and Seth's – he would be all right.

"Does it look bad?" I asked Jacob.

Jacob's face tightened. "Yeah," he admitted. "But we can't do anything except wait." He surreptitiously glanced at Nova and Rigel, and I knew that he was burning to ask that question. But Nova and Rigel were silent, and their silence was ominous.

"What can I do?" I asked again.

"You can stay here," said Jacob. "I mean, right _here_. I'll get you a change of clothes."

I sat down in the floor, leaning my back against the couch. Nova and Rigel situated themselves beside the window, whispering to each other. I was too tired to pay much attention to them. Presently, Jacob came back with a pile of gray cotton, throwing it at me.

"These will be big on you, but it'll have to do," he said. "I'll just, er, step outside while you change."

"That's not necessary," I said wearily. "I'm too tired to move yet. Just stay with me."

Jacob sat down on the floor beside me and gave a long sigh. He looked as exhausted as I felt.

"I guess could rest a minute," he murmured, yawning. He closed his eyes and I let mine slide shut. The cliff diving stunt had made me feel more exhausted than I had thought.

For once in a long time I had a normal dream. Colorful memories from my past life, all vague and distorted, which somehow included that red flame in the water...I forgot each of them as they passed. Finally, my mind settled on one image – a young girl, leaning against the balcony with a large full moon hanging in a starry sky, speaking softly to herself. And it seemed that her voice was intermingled with other, more familiar voices – the whispering voices of Nova and Rigel as I darted back and forth between unconsciousness and consciousness.

"Do you think she will come?"

"I hope so, for Bella's sake."

Even after the vision faded away, the impression of Juliet still stayed with me.

* * *

When I woke up, it was dark out. Jacob was still out, and Nova and Rigel – incredibly – were still alert, but they were silent. I tried to get up, but my body was too exhausted to move. So instead I sat there, thinking about Juliet.

I've always appreciated Juliet before, and her courage and determination. How easily she went from being an obedient child, eager to please her parents, to a strong young woman consumed by love. But I've never, in my life, felt connected with Juliet as I did now. What would Juliet do if Romeo had left her? Not because was banished, but because he fell out of love with her…or was only infatuated with her, and quickly grew bored? What if Rosaline had forsworn her vow, and given Romeo the time of day? What if Romeo hadn't been only infatuated with her beauty, as I was inclined to believe, and really had loved her?

I was pretty sure I knew how Juliet would have felt.

She wouldn't have gone back to her old life, not really. She would have been severely broken, perhaps beyond repair. She would keep up appearances for her parents' sake, hiding the broken shards of her heart. Would she have married Paris then, to please her parents? Maybe not, I admitted. Then again, Paris was a bit of a mystery; not much had been said about him. He had genuinely cared for Juliet, I remembered, maybe had even loved her. But still…there was a reason for Shakespeare naming him Paris from the Greek myth. He was the presumptuous, rather lofty rival.

But what if Paris wasn't just a threat, forcing Juliet's hand? What if he was her friend – her best friend, the only one she could confide all that business with Romeo? What if he took care of her, if he was patient and kind? What if all he ever wanted was her own happiness? And…what if Juliet loved Paris? Not like Romeo, but enough so that she wanted him to be happy too?

If Romeo was indeed never going to come back, then why would it matter whether or not Juliet took Paris on his offer? Maybe she should have settled with the leftover scraps left with her life, and try to find some semblance of happiness left. And surely Romeo would not be so indifferent as to wish her that bit of happiness.

I let out a frustrated groan. Really, I was overanalyzing everything. Romeo wouldn't have changed his mind. Rosaline was just an insignificant crush, Paris too underdeveloped for such complexity. His name would always be twined with hers – Romeo and Juliet, Juliet and Romeo. It was inconceivable that they would change their minds or fall out of love. Star-crossed lovers. It was all inevitable.

I did not want to think about the stupid fictional play anymore. Instead I focused on reality, not only on my cliff diving stunt but also the motorcycles. What if something happened to me? What about Charlie? Harry's heart attack pushed everything into perspective, and filtered out some glaring truths about my reckless actions, truths that I did not want to see. It would mean that I would have to change my ways. Would I be able to?

Maybe. With the Doctor and the others helping. And if I had Jacob.

But I couldn't think about that. Not now. Not here. I let my mind wander back to that mysterious red flame. Of course, it could be an actual flame…

Then I heard a car in the driveway – Billy was back. There was a sudden movement in the dark and I felt startled to see Nova and Rigel, who were still there. They exchanged looks, looking grim. I felt my heart sink lower and lower.

The front door opened. I could hear Billy's distinguishable voice, but he kept it uncharacteristically low. To my intense surprise, I heard the familiar British intonations, low but distinguishable. The Doctor was here.

I was temporarily blinded by the light when it flicked on. Jacob jolted awake, jumping to his feet, startled.

"Sorry if we woke you," Billy grunted.

I looked at Billy's expression, and Sam's agonized face, and then finally the Doctor, Rose, and Jack's expression. What little hope I had died within me.

"Oh no, Billy!" I cried.

Billy nodded slowly, his face hard with grief. The Doctor looked his age, for once. The young contours of his face had deepened and aged.

"I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, "I'm so sorry."

But Billy shook his head. "There are things that even alien geniuses can't control," he said slowly.

The Doctor seemed to disagree in his pensive silence. Rose laid a comforting hand on his arm. Nova and Rigel stood up, as did I; we said our condolences. Jacob had walked over to Billy and had taken his hand. The expression of grief on his face made him look strangely vulnerable and childlike again.

Billy answered with a nod. "It's going to be hard all around."

"Where's Charlie?"

"In the hospital with Sue. There's still a lot of…arrangements to be made."

The word hung ominously in the silence.

"I better be getting back," mumbled Sam, and he ducked out of the door. Billy pulled his hand away from Jacob with a sigh, and rolled away to the kitchen.

"Doctor," said Nova suddenly. Everyone jumped and looked at her and Rigel. They seemed tense, but with what seemed to be excitement. "We must get back to the TARDIS."

The Doctor was immediately wary. "Why?"

Nova and Rigel exchanged glances, then looked back at the Doctor, their faces determined.

"It's about Victoria and the Maleven," said Rigel finally.

At this the atmosphere tensed considerably, creating a perceptible change in everyone.

"Right," said the Doctor, abruptly businesslike. "To the TARDIS, then."

"I'll come with," I said, suddenly curious.

"Um, no Bella," said Nova, rather hurriedly. "It would be best if you don't. After all, you've been through a lot. You need your rest."

"What's more, Charlie needs you," added Rigel.

I nodded slowly in agreement. "You're right." Then my eyes narrowed. "But why can't I shake the feeling that you're hiding something?"

Nova and Rigel blinked in almost perfect unison, their expressions innocent.

"Hiding something?" repeated Nova incredulously. "Just look, Rigel. See the trust they have for us."

"Pitiful," agreed Rigel. "I might feel wounded. When did we ever earn such lack of trust?"

Their act was far from fooling everyone, but it did lessen the tension and ease the air of mourning somewhat. Everyone gave what seemed to be the semblance of a smile.

"All right," I said, sighing. "I'm not wanted. I understand."

"That's not true," argued Nova. "It's just…well, you'll understand. Soon."

And with that everything was settled.

* * *

Jacob drove me over to my house. He pulled me next to his side to keep his arm tight around me and I leaned my head against his chest. I tried not to think of Nova and Rigel with the Doctor and the others. In fact, I tried not to think of anything at all but Jacob's warmth and comfort, and the security he provided.

It was a quiet, peaceful ride. Even as I tried not to think, my mind traitorously focused on Jacob, and our odd relationship. I couldn't imagine life with Jacob – it was unthinkable – but to leave things the way they were was cruel. I remembered wishing Jacob was my brother, but now I realized that all I wanted was to stake a claim on him.

I could do it. I have that in my power. But _could _I really?

I'd have to tell him everything. That would be the fairest thing to do. I'd even tell him about the voice. But he had the right to know. I would have to commit every single broken piece of me. Would it be so wrong to make Jacob happy? Even if the love I had for him was nothing more than a weak, pale echo of what I was capable of, would it be so very wrong?

Jacob stopped the truck in front of my house, and it was suddenly silence. Like all other times, he seemed to know my train of thought. He threw his other arm around me in a full embrace, binding me to him.

"Sorry," he said. "I know you don't feel the same way for me, Bella, but really I don't mind. I'm just so glad you're okay. I even feel grateful towards the alien Doc. Which doesn't happen often." He chuckled, his chest rumbling.

My breathing hitched, my heart thumping wildly.

Wouldn't Edward, indifferent though he might be, want me find at least a bit of happiness? Surely he wouldn't begrudge that. Surely he'd accept me giving a small bit of the love he did not want to my friend Jacob. After all, it wasn't even the same love.

Was this why Nova and Rigel refused to have me around? I suddenly wondered. So as to put me into a position of making a decision about Jacob?

I felt Jacob's warm cheek press against the top of my hair.

If I turned my head, if I pressed my lips against his bare shoulder, I knew without a doubt exactly what would follow. So simple and easy. No need for explanations.

The only question was, could I? Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?

Then, as clearly as if I were in danger, his voice whispered in my ear, velvet and serene.

"Be happy," Edward told me.

I froze. Jacob, getting the wrong idea, released me and reached for the door. I wanted to tell him to wait, but I was frozen in place, listening to the echo of Edward's voice in my head.

Then, the fresh, storm-cooled air blew into the cab of the truck.

"_OH!_" Jacob's breath whooshed out of him, like someone who'd been punched in the stomach. His face turned into a grimace of horror. "Holy _crap_!"

He slammed the door and shoved the key into the ignition in one quick simultaneous movement.

"What is it?" I demanded.

He revved the engine too fast and it sputtered and faltered.

"Vampire," he hissed. "Crap, crap, crap!"

The blood rushed out of my head, making me dizzy. "How do you know?"

"Because I can smell it! Damn it!"

Jacob's dark eyes were wild, raking the dark street, barely even aware of the tremors and shudders that racked his body.

"Phase or get her out of here?" he muttered to himself, glancing at me. It took one look to make his decision. "Right. Get you out."

The engine caught with a loud roar. Jacob spun the truck around, the tires squealing in protest. The headlights washed across the pavement, lighting up the line of trees of the black forest and, finally, the car parked across the street.

"Stop!" I gasped in excitement.

It was a black car, a car I recognized, a car I knew more than any other vehicle, save my truck. It was Carlisle's car.

"Stop!" I cried again, only louder.

"What?!" Jacob looked at me as though I were crazy.

"It's not Victoria. Turn around, I want to go back."

The truck halted so abruptly that I had to catch myself against the dashboard.

"What?" Jacob stared at me in horror, aghast.

"It's Carlisle's car! It's the Cullens, I know it."

He stared at me, watching the joy I felt at the fact break into my face like dawn spreading across a dark sky. A violent tremor wracked his frame.

"Calm down, Jake," I said placatingly. "Take it easy. No danger, see? Relax."

"Yeah, calm." Jacob put his head down and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. I stared at the black car out the back window.

It's just Carlisle, I told myself, trying to squish the hope that was buoying up inside of me. Just Carlisle. Maybe even Esme – stop! Just Carlisle. That was plenty. That was more than I had any right to expect.

"There's a vampire in your house," said Jacob slowly, deliberately, his tone questioning my sanity, "and you want to go _back_?"

I glanced at him, reluctantly ripping my eyes off the Mercedes, terrified that it would disappear the minute I took my eyes off it.

"Of course," I said, my voice blank with surprise. Why wouldn't I?

Jacob's face hardened, morphing into the bitter mask of the dark Jacob I thought was gone forever. There was a tiny spasm of betrayal in his eyes that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. His hands were shaking.

"You're sure it's not a trick?" he asked slowly.

"No, it's not a trick," I said stubbornly. "It's Carlisle. Take me back."

Jacob's eyes were flat and emotionless. So was his reply. "No."

"Jake, it's okay –"

"No, it's not. Take yourself back, Bella." His cold words were like a slap to the face and I flinched.

"Look, Bella," he said, clenching and unclenching his jaw, his voice hard. "I can't go back. Treaty or no treaty, that's my enemy in there."

I could only gape at him incredulously.

"I have to tell Sam right away," he continued. "This changes things. We can't be caught on their turf."

"It's not a war, Jake!"

He ignored me. He put the truck in neutral, and jumped out the door, leaving the engine running.

"Bye, Bella," he said over his shoulder. "I really hope you don't die."

And he sprinted off, shaking so hard that his form was a blur – he disappeared before I could call him back. Remorse filled me then, pinning me to my seat. What had I done to Jacob?

But it was only temporary. I slid across the seat, putting the truck back in drive, turning it carefully and driving it back to the house.

It was dark, ominously so. Charlie had clearly forgotten to put his porch lamp on. Doubt crept in as I stared at the gloomy house. What if it _was _a trick?

I glanced at the sleek black car. No. I knew that car. It had to be.

Still, my hands shook more violently as I reached for the key above the door. The doorknob twisted easily under my fingers and I let the door swing open. The hallway was pitch black.

Not standing the dark, I took a step inside, fumbling around for the light switch. The blackness was suffocating, reminding me of the black water, and the orange flame sitting impossibly on top of it. It couldn't have been a flame, of course…

Suddenly, it hit me. My hand froze, my body tensing. Jacob's words this afternoon, the evident fear in Nova and Rigel's eyes when they spotted it…it wasn't a flame at all. It was Victoria's hair, blowing wild in the wind…

She'd been right there in the harbor with me and Nova and Rigel. If the Doctor and the others hadn't come when they did…My stomach lurched unpleasantly at the thought.

Then suddenly, the light flicked on, even though my hand was nowhere near the switch. I blinked at the sudden light and saw whoever was standing there.

It was Alice.

* * *

**A/N: *sarcastically* Noooo, I thought it was Tinkerbell! *rolls eyes* That was a bit too dramatic, wasn't it? Thought so. **

**So, I hope you liked this chapter and I hope you thought I changed it up enough for your entertainment purposes. It's a rather considerable length, not bad for, what, a month or two's absence? But anyway, we're at Alice now! And Edward will quickly follow in…wait, two chapters?! HURRAH! (Note: Only if I manage to stuff all the Alice things in the next chapter. Which I probably will.) Yes…just the chapter after the next and you shall be reading Edward's (angsty) thoughts. It'll be delicious…I hope. *laughs nervously* **

**Anyway, review if you are:**

**A. Mad at me for not updating (i.e. ARE YOU CRAZY, WOMAN?!) **

**B. In total awe and admiration of this spectacular masterpiece far exceeding Dickens, Shakespeare, Steinbeck, Hugo, Austen, Brontë, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy combined. Yeah. Right. **

**C. Think that this is a total piece of s*** and you must trash it by using expletives and crude language. I mean, I wholly deserve it for butchering up the English language. Man, the audacity I have! It's astonishing! **

**D. You are merely indifferent/okay with it. Eh, don't know, don't care. "Just glad you updated", maybe? "Can't wait to see my precious Edward"? Things like that. **

**Or **

**E. You have some questions or concerns, which I'll answer to the best of my abilities. **

**Reviews are better than a naked Edward. No, scratch that. Reviews are better than a dead Charles Darnay. Yeah...that's right. :D **


	15. Alice

**A/N: 'Lo, everyone, I'm back…from the dead. –is sheepish- Yeah…sorry I took my time in updating. Reasons mostly consist of high school being sadistic and assigning me TWO projects at the end of the year! And I started freaking out over them too. Also, we had finals at the last three days (oh, how very **_**nice **_**of them). And so by the time summer came I was ready to be proclaimed dead to the world. Not for long, though. :D**

**Thankfully this chapter was just shy of being done already; I just had to stop being lazy and get to it. Which I did…eventually. :( Sorry about that by the way. **

**But hey, it is summer! Which means more time to write! So yeah. Also, thanks for all the marvelous if somewhat scary reviewers. As much as it touches my heart that you guys are willing to coerce me into updating, I rather fear for your sanity. :D Don't worry, though. I'm not angry (though I probably would have been if I were nowhere near done…heh). **

**Enough of my ramblings! Read, enjoy, and (hopefully), review!**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine. Not even some of the lines. :( It all belongs to Stephanie Meyer and Russell T. Davies…oh, and the lyrics Nova sings are not mine either. Damn it…**

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Fourteen – Alice

She stood there in the center of the hallway, unnaturally and perfectly still, like a tiny, porcelain statue or life-sized doll, more beautiful than words could express.

My knees buckled, and I nearly feel. Purely on instinct, I hurled myself at her, wrapping her tightly in an embrace. I'd forgotten how _hard_ she was – like running headlong into cement.

"Alice, oh, Alice!" I cried joyously.

"Bella?" There was a mixture of relief and confusion in her voice.

I inhaled her scent, taking great big gulps. It was the sweetest aroma, more precious than any perfume. My memory hadn't done it justice.

I didn't realize at first when my exuberant inhaling turned into something else – I only realized I was sobbing Alice dragged me to the living room couch and pulled me onto her lap. She rubbed my back in smooth, comforting circles.

"It's all right, Bella. It's okay."

"Yes," I sobbed. And for one moment it was.

I heard Alice sigh. "I'd forgotten how exuberant you are," she said disapprovingly.

I looked at her though my tear-streaked eyes. Her neck was tight and tense, her body leaning away from mine. Her eyes were a dangerous black onyx.

"Oh." She was hungry. I was making it worse for her. I leaned away, feeling sheepish. It had been a while since I had to think of such things. "Sorry."

"It's all right." Alice sighed again. "It's my fault anyway. I should've hunted before I came." Then her eyes narrowed, looking very intimidating. "Which reminds me. Care to explain why you're still alive?"

I blinked in realization. "Oh. You saw me fall."

"No," Alice disagreed, her eyes narrowing even more into two slits. "I saw you _jump_."

I winced slightly at the inflection. "Ah."

Alice shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe it, Bella. I knew this would happen, but he wouldn't hear of it. 'Bella promised.'" Her voice imitated his so perfectly that pain ripped through my torso. "Don't be looking for her future either. We're done enough damage.' But just because I wasn't looking doesn't mean I didn't see you. I swear I wasn't looking for you, Bella, but I'm already attuned to you. When I saw you jump, I didn't think, I just jumped on a plane. I knew it would be too late, but I couldn't stand around and do _nothing_. Maybe I'd help Charlie somehow…and then you drive up." She shook her head, this time in confusion. Her voice was getting more strained by each word she uttered. "I saw you go into the water and I waited and waited but you never came up. What happened? And how could you do such a thing to Charlie? Or my brother? Do you have _any _idea of what it would do to Edward –"

I interrupted her just then, as soon as she said his name. I'd let her go on, even when I realized the misunderstanding she was under, just to hear the sound of her bell-like voice.

"Alice, I wasn't committing suicide."

She narrowed her yes at me, skeptical. "Are you saying you didn't jump off a cliff?"

"No, but…it was for recreational purposes only." I grimaced. "You know, cliff diving."

Alice's expression hardened.

"I'd seen some of Jacob's friends cliff diving," I explained. "It looked like…fun, and I was bored…" I trailed off lamely.

She waited.

"I didn't think of how the storm would affect the currents. Actually, I didn't think about the water much at all." My head had been filled with nothing but Edward.

She didn't believe me. It was evident in her expression of disbelief. Seeing the clear evidence on Alice's face suddenly reminded me of something.

"Nova and Rigel didn't think I was doing it for fun either," I blurted out. I'd remembered Nova's sarcastic words to Rigel: _She'd only had another near-death experience. She'd only tried to suicide herself. Everything's just peachy_. I wondered why Nova would think that that had been my true intention, and how Nova even learned of my cliff diving stunt.

Alice's hardened expression softened and molded into one of perplexity. She cocked her head to the side. "Care to explain who they are?"

"They were the ones that pulled me out of the water," I explained. "How come you didn't see them? Anyway, they've friends of the Doctor." I realized, too late, that Alice wouldn't know who he was.

Her reaction shocked me to the core. Her countenance, full of disbelief and curiosity, now morphed into an expression of utter shock. Shock…and evident recognition.

I could _not _believe this. "You know the _Doctor_?!"

Alice recovered quickly enough to say, "Know him? I've never even met him. But the others had and they told me all about him. They came across him – or rather, he came across them – before Jasper and I came along."

I sat there, stunned. The Cullens met the Doctor? Unbelievable…and yet, he was a time-traveling alien and they could live forever so I supposed their paths would've crossed at least once. Then I remembered me telling the Doctor about Edward and my heart stopped. Did he know all along whom they were from way back when? Was he stunned to hear that a human had fallen in love with one of the vegetarian vampires he'd met in whatever form he was at the time?

"They described him as eccentric," Alice mused, half to herself. "Rather short with weird, _horrible _fashion sense." She wrinkled her nose delicately. "Especially that celery stalk he wore on his coat…"

I choked. On air. "He wore a _celery stalk_?" And I thought the _present _Doctor was weird.

Alice frowned. "Doesn't he now?"

"No," I admitted. "He's got a new form now. He can regenerate, see, whenever he's at the brink of death. It's a survival thing. The version of him you guys saw was one of his past forms, I don't know which."

Alice stared at me for a few moments before shaking her head. "Tell me how you met this Doctor. Start at the beginning."

So I told her everything – well, glossing over the parts where I lost control of myself, obviously. I told her about Rose and Jack, the Doctor's companions, and about the Maleven attack –

"The _what_?" Alice looked shocked.

I explained to her about the Maleven, taking great care in my words; with each word Alice's expression darkened and darkened. But she didn't interrupt, not even when I told her the Maleven were the ones behind the hiker attacks. But when I tried to tell her about how Nova and Rigel appeared – which was right in the middle of my confrontation with Laurent. I abruptly cut off at this point. Alice looked so…vampire.

"Victoria?' she said through gritted teeth. "Laurent?"

I quickly emphasized the importance of Nova and Rigel's timely arrival, because that allowed the wolves to kill Laurent.

That caught Alice's attention. "Wolves?"

Ah. Yes. So I told her about Jacob's pack and consequently the fact that I was friends with Jacob. I talked more freely then about the Doctor-pack alliance and them working together to kill Victoria and the Maleven. I eventually quieted at getting to the part where I jumped off a cliff, at seeing the strange flame and what it meant…Alice's frown deepened and deepened until I thought the small crease in between her eyebrows would be permanently etched into her skin.

"Our leaving did not do you any good, did it?" she murmured.

I let out an incredulous laugh slightly tinged with hysteria. "What did you expect, Alice? Me going around whistling show tunes?"

Alice almost smiled. Almost. "No, but I did hope. Rather silly of me." She then sighed. "But your story did explain a great number of things."

"Such as?" I asked.

"Why I couldn't see Nova and Rigel rescuing you," answered Alice. "They're from the future, and you yourself admitted that they might not have been human. Even the fact that they were able to pull you out of that current when you couldn't speaks for itself. The only qualm I have is that I usually see non-humans quite well. For me to completely miss them is still a mystery." Alice paused, then wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Another mystery cleared up is the smell."

"What?" I was confused.

"You smell awful," said Alice vaguely. "You said you hang around with werewolves. Their scent is clinging on you. It's disgusting."

"Really?" I thought it was strange that werewolves smelled bad to vampires when I thought Jacob's woodsy scent was quite appealing.

"Yes," said Alice, then narrowed her eyes. "Only you, Bella, would see fit to hang around with time-traveling aliens and filthy werewolves when anyone else would have been better off when the vampires left town. Do you know how the others have met the Doctor? His time machine crashed into the Tanya's house when they were in Denali. On the _roof_. He not only brings trouble, he's _attracted _to trouble. But even so he pales in comparison with volatile, irascible, _young_ werewolves."

"There's nothing wrong with werewolves," I said defensively, stung by her derogatory tone.

"Until they lose their tempers," said Alice grimly.

I didn't want to argue with her – the pleasure I felt at having her back was too great.

"Well," said Alice, scowling at the floor. "I guess I acted impulsively and rash today. I shouldn't have interfered."

Panic wracked my body as I heard the insinuation in her tone. I latched on to her, blanching. "Don't go, Alice," I whispered, breathing hard through my nose. "Please don't leave me."

Her eyes widened at my vehement reaction. "All right," she said with slow precision. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. Take a deep breath."

She watched as I struggled to obey and waited until I was calm enough to comment.

"Bella, you look terrible."

"I almost drowned today," I reminded her.

"It goes deeper than that. You're a mess."

I flinched. "I've been doing my best. It hasn't been easy. Although with the Doctor and Jacob I have been a bit better lately."

Alice frowned at the sound of their names. "I told him," she muttered to herself.

Then the phone rang.

"That must be Charlie," I said, staggering to my feet, grabbing Alice's icy hand and dragging her with me to the kitchen. There was no way I was going to let her out of my sight for even a second.

"Charlie?"

"No, it's me."

"Jake!"

"Just making sure you were alive," he said tartly.

"I'm fine. I told you it wasn't –"

"Yeah. I got it. 'Bye." And then he hung up.

I sighed, hanging up the phone as well. "That's going to be a problem."

"They aren't excited I'm here," said Alice grimly.

"Not especially. But it's none of their business anyway," I said decisively.

Alice put her arm around me. "So what to do now?" she murmured. "Things to do, loose ends to tie."

"What things?"

Alice's expression was suddenly guarded. "I don't know for sure. But I definitely need to see Carlisle."

So soon? The bottom of my stomach dropped.

"Can't you stay?" I pleaded. "For just a little while? I've missed you so much."

"If you think that's a good idea." But her eyes were unhappy.

"Yeah," I said, encouraged. "You can stay here – Charlie would love that."

"I have a house, Bella," she reminded me.

I nodded, disappointed but resigned. Alice hesitated, scrutinizing me.

"I will need a suitcase of clothes at the very least."

I threw my arms around her for what seemed to the thousandth time. "Thank you, Alice!"

"And I think I'll need to hunt. Immediately," she added in a strained voice.

I took a step back. "Oops."

"Can you stay out of trouble for one hour?" she asked dubiously. She held up one finger before I could answer and closed her eyes. Her face went smooth and blank for a couple of seconds.

"Yes," she said finally, opening her eyes. "You'll be fine. For tonight, anyway." She grimaced.

"You'll come back?" My voice was pitifully small and pathetic.

"I promise – one hour."

She kissed me lightly and quickly on the cheek then she was gone.

* * *

Alice was early in coming back. By that time I'd cleaned up and had dinner. I was careful not to look at the clock or else I would've started panicking. Nevertheless, when I went into the living room to watch TV Alice was suddenly there, on her improvised bed. Her eyes were a light butterscotch color.

We talked for a bit about my problem and I even summoned up what little courage I had to ask about Edward. Although I could deal with thinking his name, it was a different thing entirely to say it aloud. I knew I would have to deal with the pain later.

He wasn't with Carlisle and Esme, or any of the others. Apparently, he checked in every few months. He was busy with his little distractions, I supposed.

Afterwards, Charlie arrived. I felt the borrowed sorrow for Harry's death rise up and choke me when I saw Charlie's slumped, defeated stance. Poor Charlie. At least he accepted Alice, as I knew he would. Alice and I went back to the couch, where I proceed to ask more questions about the Cullens…and Edward. I was both disappointed and secretly relieved that he had no idea of his sister being here with me.

I had no plans to sleep. All I wanted to do was to stay up the whole night with Alice. But drowning had taken a lot out of me and it didn't take long before I drifted into a peaceful oblivion than I have had in a long time.

I awoke feeling well-rested, but stiff. I was on the couch, tucked under the covers I had laid out for Alice. I could hear Alice and Charlie in the kitchen, their voices soft, but audible.

"How bad was it, Charlie?" Alice asked quietly. I first assumed she was talking about the Clearwaters.

Charlie sighed. "Real bad."

"Tell me. I want to know exactly what happened after we left."

There was a pause, and then Charlie slowly began to talk.

Every word, every inflection, every catch in his voice made me cringe with pain; pain at the pain I had caused Charlie. I had been so naïve – I haven't fooled Charlie in the slightest.

Again, it put my actions – reckless and foolish – into perspective. The motorcycles, hanging out with werewolves, flirting with danger by merely hanging out with the Doctor…I've been pretty selfish. What if something had happened to me?

It became harder and harder to listen, especially to my zombie months. I shuddered just thinking about that dark, empty time. Charlie was right – it wasn't right, it wasn't normal for anyone to be effected by such a feeling grief. It was as though I had died. It wasn't just losing the truest of true loves, as if it weren't bad enough, but losing a family, a whole new life that I had chosen way before I even had the choice. That's what had done it for me.

I was better, obviously. The Doctor and Jacob had shown me light, humor, and warmth, even bringing me a measure of contentment. But not true happiness, the kind that lasted more than just a little while, the kind that buoyed me up inside and filled my every pore. I wished that they were enough, but they weren't. No one could ever be. The only one that could was in South America, being distracted.

When their conversation was finished, I pretended to wake up. I wonder if I'd fooled Alice, but she was too great an actress for me to know.

Charlie had to leave then. He was helping Sue with the funeral arrangements. Alice and I were situated in the kitchen, with Alice talking about her family, with the exception of one, and me eagerly drinking in the details. Alice had just finished telling me about her past – she'd successfully tracked down the asylum where she was admitted – when the doorbell suddenly rang. I exchanged startled looks with Alice who, by the look on her face, hadn't seen this coming.

"Be right back," I muttered, almost running to the front door. My heart palpitating crazily, I opened the door. What – or rather who – I saw wasn't what I had expected.

"_Nova_?"

"Hi, Bella!" Nova greeted me cheerfully. Rigel was beside her as always, looking as though he'd give anything to be where he was now.

"May we come in?" asked Nova politely.

"Sure," I said, stepping aside to let them in. "What brings you two here?" In my memory they've never come here.

"We're here to see Alice," said Nova.

Wait…what? "What?"

"Alice," reiterated Rigel, seeing my stunned countenance. "Clandestine? Pixie-like? Likes to shop? We know she's here. Should be by now."

Before I could reply, Alice appeared right next to me. To say that she was surprised would be the understatement of the century. She stared at the twins, her eyebrows raised.

"Hi, Alice!" Nova greeted her in the same tone she used to greet me. Neither she nor Rigel seemed surprised at her sudden appearance. She dug into the bulky jacket she wore and took out a rolled-up poster board. "We made you a small sign -"

"_Nova _made you a sign," interrupted Rigel hurriedly.

"_Rigel _helped," retorted Nova, smiling angelically at her brother, who scowled darkly at her. "Anyway, here it is!"

She smoothed out the sign board and showed it to us with a kind of flourishing 'Ta-da'. In huge, though very neat, cursive letters the words WELCOME BACK, ALICE popped out of the page, multicolor and glittering. The look on Alice's face would have been priceless if I hadn't been shocked as well.

"Welcome back, Alice!" Nova said brightly, and then randomly burst into song: "_Your dreams were your ticket out. Welcome back -"_

"Nova, not that song _again_," moaned Rigel. "I thought you had enough of the seventies."

"I can't help it," said Nova, shrugging, rolling up her masterpiece and stuffing it inside her jacket. "It's so catchy!"

Rigel muttered something too low for me to hear, but by Alice's amused expression I could tell it was some witty retort or other.

"I take it you're Nova and Rigel from the future," stated Alice. "Any reason for the pomp?"

"None, except for the chance to take you by surprise," said Nova, sniggering.

"We couldn't help it," admitted Rigel, having the grace to be apologetic.

"But don't think you're losing your touch," added Nova. "You're really not."

"Far from it," said Rigel.

"We're just not human," said Nova, too casual for her blunt statement.

"Well, not fully human anyway," amended Rigel.

"Just half," said Nova. "Therefore you might not see us clearly, or even at all."

"So yeah," they concluded simultaneously, even shrugging in unison.

I'd forgotten how freaky it was when Nova and Rigel acted more like the twins they were.

"Right," said Alice slowly, as though she didn't quite know what to say. It was weird to see her so speechless. Then again, Nova and Rigel had that effect on people.

Then, before any of us could say or do anything else the door suddenly opened and – to my slack-jawed surprise – Jack appeared, looking harried.

"Nova, Rigel, what –" Jack cut himself off – his eyes had landed on Alice. I inwardly groaned as I imagined what Alice would look like in his eyes. And sure enough Jack's lips curled into his infamous Jack Grin.

"Hello," he said directly to Alice, his tone oozing with charm. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and I like you."

He seemed to have changed to a blunter approach, I noticed. Alice raised both her eyebrows at him. Then she flashed him a tight, threatening grin, showing off the tips of her razor-sharp incisors.

"I'm Alice, and I'm married," she retorted.

Jack didn't even miss a beat. "Well, Alice-and-I'm-married, _that_ has never stopped me before."

"Jack flirts," I said as in explanation to Alice, so that she will know that Jack is like that to everything that moves and will not be as tempted to dismember him…much. "Indiscriminately," I added.

"Bella," said Jack in a scandalized tone. "Don't feed her lies about me." Then before I could raise my eyebrows incredulously he added: "I do more than just flirt."

"We know, Jack," said Nova, for once earnest, while Rigel almost imperceptibly shuddered. "We know."

The list for things I did not want to know just kept on augmenting.

* * *

After that strange first meeting, Alice got better acquainted with Nova and Rigel and even got on well with them. Especially Nova, who as it turned out shared her love for shopping and fashion. Plus her cheerful, bubbly personality was like Alice's. And of course it was well nigh impossible to dislike Rigel.

Jack, however, was a different story. If he didn't fancy Alice as much as he acted (and by fancy I meant…well, what I insinuated) maybe Alice wouldn't have acted a mite coldly towards him. Of course, part of that coldness was probably due to Jack's sly suggestion of a threesome with him comfortably sandwiched between Alice and Jasper. I choked at the mental image before shoving it deep into my subconscious.

Nova, Rigel, and Jack decided to hang around here for the strange alibi that the TARDIS was "getting cramped" – a strange paradox. I, who knew otherwise, wondered what they really meant, and why Jack smirked that way and Nova and Rigel seemed to cringe perceptibly.

The rest of an afternoon was a hole of nothingness. Usually I spent almost all my time at La Push or with the Doctor, so I was definitely neglecting some chores around the house, starting with the bathroom.

Alice leaned on the doorway as I worked, casually asking questions about my – our – high school friends and what they have been up to since they left. I could tell, regardless of her nonchalant, light tone, that she was disappointed at my vague answers and how little I could tell her.

Then the doorbell rang. I looked up at Alice, whose expression was perplexed, almost worried…surprised. I was once again taken aback. Again?

"Oh!" Nova came sliding by, with Rigel. "That must be one of the werewolves."

"Most likely Jacob Black and one of his…friends," said Alice with a trace of frustration in her tone. "So I think I'd better step out."

I blinked, realizing the implication. "You can't see werewolves?"

"Apparently not," she said, grimacing.

The doorbell rang again, twice in quick, impatient succession.

"You don't have to go anywhere," I said defiantly, "you were here first."

Alice laughed her silvery, chime-like laugh that nevertheless held a dark edge. "Trust me, Bella. It wouldn't do anyone good to have me and Jacob Black in the same room together."

She kissed me swiftly and lightly on the cheek before she vanished through Charlie's door – and out his back window, no doubt.

The doorbell rang again, jerking me out of my thoughts. I sprinted past Nova and Rigel downstairs, throwing open the door. It was Jacob, of course. Even blind, Alice wasn't slow.

He was as stiff as a board, about six feet away from the door. His muscles were tense, as though he would at any moment run off, his countenance hostile. I saw the Rabbit stalling at the curb, with Jared at the wheel and Embry beside him. Irritation and indignation flared up inside me in response to such antagonism. They didn't understand the goodness of the Cullens and their anomaly – or maybe they didn't want to.

"Hello," I said when Jacob did not speak. Of course he didn't answer, his wary eyes roving around the front of the house.

"She's not here," I said through gritted teeth, easily angered. "Do you need something?"

Jacob pursed his lips in contemplation. "You're alone?"

"Mostly," I admitted, "Nova, Rigel, and Jack are here."

I could tell Jacob wasn't happy with the company, but decided that they were better than Alice.

"Can I talk to you a minute?"

"_Of course _you can, Jake. Come on in." I paused. "The house won't bite, promise."

Jacob ignored my sarcastic remark and turned to look at his friends. Embry made a very slow, cut-throat gesture with his finger, all the while shaking his head.

My teeth clinked together again. "Chicken," I hissed viciously.

Jacob whipped his head around at me. His dark eyes were furious, his hands clenching into hard fists. Jaw set, he marched – actually _marched _– up the sidewalk and past me into the house. I gazed steadily into the hard gazes of Embry and Jared – did they really think I would let anything happen to Jacob? – before quickly shutting the door.

Jacob was in the hall, staring at the mess of blankets in the living room. "Slumber party?" he asked, sarcastic.

"Yeah," I retorted acerbically. I didn't like Jacob when he was that way. "What's it to you?

Jacob ignored that, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Where's your 'friend'?" he asked, audible quotation marks around the word.

"She had to run some errands," I said. "Look, Jacob, what do you want?"

I supposed it was the smell that got to him, diffusing liberally around the living room. He didn't reply, only moving on to the kitchen. To my mild surprise, Nova, Rigel and Jack were sitting at the small kitchen table, and they looked like they were holding earnest discussion. When Jacob and I came in the low voices stop and they looked up, each pasting smiles.

"Hi, Jacob!" chirped Nova.

"Hi," said Rigel with his usual reserve.

"Hello, gorgeous," said Jack with his usual flirtatious tone, although I wasn't clear whether he was referring to me or Jacob. Judging from Jacob's cringe, I leaned towards the latter.

I scrutinized their innocent expressions carefully, not taken in for one moment. "I don't know what you guys were talking about before we came in and frankly, I prefer not to know. Would you excuse Jacob and me?"

The three exchanged surreptitious, almost conspiratorial looks.

"Why sure, Bella," said Nova, her smile becoming devious. "We wouldn't want to infringe on your privacy, now would we?"

"Of course not," said Rigel solemnly, but with his lips twitching. "Right, Jack?"

Jack looked as though that was exactly what he wanted to do but with the pointed, significant glances Nova and Rigel were throwing at him, he had no choice but to acquiesce. The three got up and left the kitchen, but not before I saw Nova whisper something in Jack's ear and Jack – after a moment's deliberation – nod in agreement.

As soon as they were out, Jacob let out a sharp sigh of relief. He paced back and forth along the counter, his eyes moving restlessly. Not standing it any longer, I put myself in his way and he stopped. "Hey, what's your problem?"

His eyes tightened. "I don't like being here."

I winced at the stinging remark. "I'm sorry you had to come, then," I muttered. "Why don't you tell me what you want so that you can leave?"

"I just have to ask you a few questions. Then we have to head over to the funeral.

"All right," I said curtly, "let's get it over with them." I felt a sting of remorse for my antagonistic manner – after all, I had chosen the _bloodsucker _over him.

It was all question and answer after that.

"So one of the Cullens is staying with you," Jacob stated first.

"Yes. Alice Cullen."

"How long is she here for?"

"For as long as she wants." Again my pugnacious tone. "It's an open invitation."

"Could you…please…explain to her about Victoria and the Maleven?"

I blanched. "I told her about that."

Jacob nodded. "We can only watch our own lands with a Cullen here," he informed me. "You'll only be safe in La Push. I can't protect you here anymore."

"Okay." I breathed deeply.

He looked away from me, out the back windows. He was silent.

"Is that all?" I pressed.

He kept his eyes on the glass. "Just one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Are the rest coming back now?"

His tone was cool and quiet – almost serene. In that moment I was forcibly reminded of Sam's calm manner. I wondered why it bothered me.

I was silent for too long. He turned to look back at me.

"Well?" he prodded, struggling to maintain his serene expression.

"No," I said finally, suddenly weary. "They aren't coming back."

Jacob's expression did not change. "Okay. That's all."

I glared at him, anger suddenly coursing through me. "Well, go along now. Go tell Sam that the scary monsters aren't coming to get you." I didn't care if it was childish.

"Okay," he repeated, still calm.

He then walked away from the kitchen. I was tensed, waiting to here the front door open, but I heard nothing – how quiet he'd become, I marveled.

I was suddenly hit with a bout of melancholy. I leaned over the counter, burying my face in my hands. What a mess. How did I seem to muck up everything in such a short expanse of time? But what could I have done differently? There seemed no perfect course of action.

"Bella…?"

I whipped around to see Jacob hesitating in the kitchen doorway, his tone troubled. He hadn't left, like I had thought. I felt something cold and wet in my hands and realized that I had been crying.

The infuriatingly calm expression disappeared altogether from Jacob's countenance, replaced with an anxious and unsure one. He walked back to stand in front of me, ducking his head so as to bring his eyes closer to my level.

"Did it again, huh?"

"Did what?" My voice cracked embarrassingly.

"Broke my promise. Sorry."

"S'okay. I started it this time."

He grimaced. "I knew how you felt about them. It shouldn't have taken me by surprise like that."

"Sorry," I said again.

"Let's not worry about it. She's just visiting, right? She'll leave and everything will go back to normal."

"Normal," I repeated numbly. I looked up at Jacob's anxious face. "You'll still be my friend, right? Even though I love Alice too?"

There was a minute of silence in which Jacob hesitated. His eyes flickered with a dozen emotions at once, too fast for me to pinpoint them.

"Yeah," he said at last. "I'll always be your friend. No whatever who – or what – you love."

"Promise?" I had to be sure.

"Promise."

He embraced me, and I leaned against his chest, still sniffling. "This sucks."

"Yeah." Then he sniffed my hair and cringed. "Ew."

"What!" I looked up to see that his nose was wrinkled again. "Why does everyone keep doing that to me? I don't smell!"

"Actually you do," he said, smiling a little. "You smell like _them_ – too sweet. It's sickening. And icy. It burns my nose."

"Really?" How strange. Alice smelled heavenly – to a human, anyway. "But then, why would Alice think I smelled too?"

Jacob stopped smiling. "Huh. Seems I don't smell good to her either."

"Well, you both smell fine to me," I said, resting my head on him again. He sniffed my head again, more cautiously this time.

"And it seems you've been with the Doctor too much," he said.

I frowned. "How come?"

"You have a bit of a Time Lord stench as well. Only it's mixed in with the vampire smell. Blech. Not a good combination at all."

My frown deepened, but said nothing. I haven't seen the Doctor in quite awhile. Then again, I have been hanging around him so much that I suppose whatever he smelled of stuck on me permanently.

We sank into comfortable silence and I was left to bemoan this whole blasted situation. It was a nasty situation – on the one hand I wanted Alice to stay forever. I knew it would be utterly devastating when she left. But how I was going to go without seeing Jacob was a conundrum in itself.

"I'll miss you," whispered Jacob, unknowingly echoing my thoughts. "Every minute. I hope she leaves soon."

I felt my face twist up ruefully. "It doesn't have to be that way, Jake," I told him quietly.

He sighed. "It really does, Bella. You love her. So I can't be anywhere near her. I'm not sure I'm even-tempered enough to handle that. Besides –" and here his voice turned sarcastic "–you probably wouldn't like it too much if I killed your friend."

I recoiled from him, but he merely tightened his arms. "There's no point in denying the truth, Bells. That's the way things are."

"I do _not _like the way things are." My tone was petulant.

Jacob freed one arm so that he could cup his hand under my chin, raising it up so that my eyes were level with his. "It was easier when we were both human, wasn't it?"

I sighed in response. We stared each other for a long moment. On my countenance there was nothing but wistful sadness at having to part from him and at first his face mirrored mine. Then, as neither us looked away, it changed.

He released me, lifting his other hand to lightly brush against my cheek, his fingertips leaving a warm trail down to my jaw. They were trembling, but not with anger. Finally he pressed his palm against my cheek, so that my face was trapped between his hands.

"Bella," he whispered.

No! I hadn't made the decision yet, and though I had enough time to think of it, I was too consumed with Alice to think about it – or was it that I just subconsciously pushed it out of the way for future scrutiny? Regardless I was out of time, and still ambivalent. But I would be a fool to think that rejecting him now would have no consequence.

He was not _my _Jacob, the warm Jacob of yesterday, but he could be, in time. His face was still familiar, still beloved. Still comforting…and I could choose to have him belong to me.

Alice was back for the moment, but it changed nothing. No prince to come and kiss me out of my enchanted sleep. I wasn't even a princess anyway. So what about the other normal, mundane kisses?

Maybe it would be safe and easy, like holding his hand or having his arms around me. Maybe it would even feel nice. Not like a betrayal. After all, who was I betraying? Just myself, or at least whatever pieces left of me to begin with. No one would judge or condemn – the Doctor and others would probably say it was about time. The La Push people would be happy that Jacob was happy. Even Alice wouldn't begrudge me that little bit of happiness, seeing as her brother didn't love me anymore. We could at least try. I could at least grant him that.

But…was it wrong to lead him on this way? Even cruel? Jacob didn't deserve my weak, pitiful echo of what I am capable of – what I _was _capable of. He didn't deserve a broken wisp of a girl. Would he be okay with it? Would he even care?

I stared as Jacob started to bend his face toward me, still absolutely undecided, hovering between that thin, imaginary line.

And then the phone rang.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I'm evil. So sue me. :D But of course you know what happens next and all that jazz. But you know what this means, right? Next chapter will be the Edward chapter! :D I recommend tissues by the way. If you're of that type. Personally, I wouldn't cry over anything **_**I've **_**written. I'll always think it'll be woefully inadequate. But oh well. **

**Again, sorry for the late update (reasons stated at the beginning, hopefully adequate). I have started on the Edward chapter awhile ago and I have decided to omit several things for a shorter (though nevertheless exciting - hopefully - chapter). Hope you can find it in your heart of hearts to review! :D**


	16. The Far, Better Rest

**A/N: Hi, people, I'm back! Hope I was not gone long. Yes, I'm too lazy to check how long I took. All I know is that it's not been a month. Hurrah for me! :D Even though this is one of the shortest chapters I've written, excepting the Prologue. **

**But anyway, I've decided not to ramble…much. At the end I will. So expect that. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**** Yo**** no**** poseo****"Crepúsculo****". Je ne possède pas le « Crépuscule ». **

**And now, here's Edward:**

* * *

Daybreak  
By cto10121

Chapter Fifteen – The Far, Better Rest

It was hardly any better than burning in hell.

No, that was wrong. It was far worse than that, worse than even my transformation. Words had scarcely sufficed in conjuring up that hell-fire, spreading slowly in my veins like poison…the sharpest, most vivid memory I had of my human life, overshadowing all others.

Regardless. That paled in comparison to what I was suffering now. Back then, I had begged for death. Now, I would ask for it with a smile on my face. No other pain could possibly compare. No torture could be as effective as this one.

I was vaguely aware of my surroundings. A dark, musty loft, an empty cavern. I, sitting on the dusty floor, leaned on the grime-layered, plaster walls. Piles upon piles of cardboard boxes, taking up more than two-thirds of the tiny loft. Rats and other creatures scampered around the loft whenever they pleased, their gleaming red eyes shining brightly in the darkness. I had taken to feeding on them when the monster became too strong – and the need too urgent – to suppress or ignore. As soon as I had my fill, however, the monster would sourly slink away into the deep recesses of my mind, almost disappearing entirely.

The clamor of voices below­­­ – both verbal and mental – was only a dull murmur to me, the harsh intermingling of Spanish and Portuguese incomprehensible. Nothing mattered to me anymore.

The little regard I held for time had, too, ceased to mean anything for me. Time, of course, was only a human invention – a product of the imagination, a whimsical fancy. It does not exist. Decades, years, months, weeks, days, minutes, seconds…it all mattered very little. I have spent a thousand years in this loft, not nearly seven months. The difference was inconsequential.

And all through every single burning second Bella smiled at me behind my eyelids.

Her heart-shaped, porcelain face inexorably bore an expression of forgiveness, her beautiful smile warm and welcoming. Her wide, chocolate eyes were filled with love and tenderness. _Come back to me_, they seemed to say to me.

Ironically enough, the image my mind conjured up did the exact opposite of what it intended to do. Instead of weakening my resolve, it merely strengthened it. It was out of the question to return to Forks, to intrude upon her life again. We've done enough damage – _I've _done enough damage, without adding assault to injury.

I needed to force myself out of her life. Bella deserved a life full of light, of happiness, rid of any shadows. A whole, normal, untainted life. In reality, I had nothing to offer her, except the gaudy, ugly, depraved, soulless vision of immortality. I've never really understood humans and their love affair with the idea of immortality in some form or another. They didn't understand that immortality was not worth it if, as a price, you were a monster, a creature of the night, forced to take a life in order to live – or exist, whatever we did. I made the best out of my lot in life, substituting humans with animals, living under Carlisle's code. But I had my sins, too, sins that couldn't be easily whitewashed by Carlisle's and Esme's easy acceptance. I had killed, played God with people's lives, have been tempted more times than I can count in my entire existence.

Whereas Bella…she was an angel – beautiful, warm, with a heart of gold, the perfect, complete antithesis of what I was. Most prominently of all, she was _human_. And that was a luxury that I could never afford. And, most unfathomably of all, she loved me. Or at least did love me. There was little hope she still harbored affection for me after my desertion. But still, the temptation, the endless, mindless longing for her face, her voice, her smile, her _scent_, was nigh overwhelming, crippling my resolve. I found myself making plans to check up on her, to see if she'd move on. Time healed all wounds, and it was presumptuous of me to assume that her regard equaled mine such so that she would feel pain and sadness even now, at seven months, with the mere thought of me. But I'd always forcefully dismissed – or tried to – the notion of checking up on her; I wasn't sure if, seeing her for the first time, I would be strong enough to tear myself away and my resolve, carefully built and strengthened, would crumble. More than that, I had promised her that the day in the woods – sharp and as clear as if it had happened yesterday – that this would be the last she'd ever lay eyes on me.

_It will be as if I'd never existed. _My own cold reassurance, coming back to haunt me.

I forced myself to divert my thoughts elsewhere; enough was enough. My thoughts, to my chagrin, drifted towards my family, much to my dismay. White-hot guilt seeped in, as it invariably did when I thought about them.

I knew what I was doing to them, especially Esme. Once more I'd disappointed Carlisle, if differently than I could have ever foreseen. Indeed, that part of me – the part that hated disappointing Carlisle – rebelled against the cowardly act that was my self-imposed isolation. But I couldn't help it – the thought of acting normal in front of my family when I was anything but (and could even scarcely summon the willpower necessary for such a feat) was unbearable. And so I fixed upon two things to distract me from the pain and guilt: Fighting against the temptation to return to Forks and hunting down Victoria.

The former I was close to losing spectacularly. It was only my tenaciousness, I knew, that kept me bearing it out until the edge of doom, so to speak. The latter was hardly better – worse, I should say. Victoria was remaining damned elusive, and with her knowledge of my mind-reading it was doubly hard to track her, especially since I was horrible enough at tracking to begin with. She led me in a wild goose chase all around Central America. Recently she traveled all the way to Brazil, and I was lucky to catch her scent in Rio de Janeiro. To my outrageous luck she seemed to linger around that area. Then, just as I caught the softest timbre of her mental voice it slipped away, quiet as a shadow, along with her scent. Frustrated, I rented a loft to plan my next move and replenish my strength. The best result of hunting Victoria was the anger – the anger that kept me even the slightest distracted from the pain, from the depression. With Victoria out of my grasp, though, my anger and frustration cooled and I inevitably plunged into brooding despair and the emptiness of my thoughts.

Alone in a loft somewhere in the coast of Brazil with only an impression of Bella in my head. Great. Wonderful.

Of course at that moment my cell phone began to vibrate.

At first I ignored it. I did not know which of my family was calling me and frankly I did not care. They knew better not to infringe my "space". As it continued to vibrate urgently, however, I began to feel a prickle of concern. Suppose it was urgent? After all, why call at all? Maybe it was Alice who had seen something…I compromised with myself and took out the phone, looking at the number. For the first time in quite a bit, I felt a spasm of shock.

Rosalie? _Rosalie_, of all people, calling me? What on earth could she possibly want? For I knew this could not be a simple hello. I was almost tempted to ignore it, but decided against it, flipping it over.

"Finally you answer," came Rosalie's sneering tone. "Took you long enough."

I snapped the phone shut. Simple hello, it seemed. Presently it began to vibrate again. I frowned at that tiny contraption, flirting with the idea of crushing it.

"_Behave_," reprimanded Bella, her voice echoing.

I froze as I always did, rejoicing in the musical splendor of her voice. I gave in to the voice, as I always did.

"Now I know I probably deserved that," said Rosalie in mild exasperation. "But really, that was childish, Edward."

"And you're not?" I retorted.

"I confess that I'm vain. Childish?" There was a snort. "Sure, Edward. Whatever you say."

I closed my eyes. "What do you want, Rosalie?" I asked flatly.

There was silence on the line and a sharp intake of breath.

"You know, you're acting really selfish," Rosalie said quickly, as though blurting it out.

Ah. So Rosalie wanted to renew her attempts at convincing me to go back. I knew there was a catch.

"Save your breath, Rose. I'm not coming back."

"There you go again," said Rosalie, frustrated. "You've gotten so wrapped up into your cold little bubble of self-deprecation that you don't realize the state you've left us in. Things just aren't the same. Alice isn't her annoying bubbly self. I miss Emmett's jokes. It's painfully obvious that Carlisle and Esme want you to come back. Even Jasper misses you." She hesitated. "_I _miss you."

For Rosalie this was tantamount to an "I love you." But still I was silent. I had the feeling she was not done.

"Besides," Rosalie continued hurriedly after an embarrassed pause, "it doesn't matter anymore. We can go back to Forks and be normal again. Well, normal for us. Alice even came back. To Forks, I mean."

"What?" My tone was flat with no hint of a question. Yet another shock. Alice had actually broken her promise. I'd told her not to check up on Bella. Anger welled up in me.

"Don't blame Alice," said Rosalie as though for once she was reading my mind instead of the other way around. "She had a vision of…Bella." I winced at the sound of her name out loud. "And the vision was of such…delicate nature that Alice felt it she had to go." I could detect a phantom shrug. "She didn't do anything wrong, Edward. After all, your instructions were not for Alice to avoid Forks itself."

The implication was strong. But what did she mean? I suddenly felt a tendril of unease unravel in my mind.

"Has something happened to Bella?" I trembled at saying her name out loud. "Is she all right?"

"No, she's fine," said Rosalie, her tone oddly…blank. "Never better."

I was not even the slightest reassured. "There's something you're not telling me, Rose. What is it?"

Again there was that hesitating silence.

"The others don't want me to tell you this. But really, it's better this way. Fast and quick. A clean break, like you said once before. Why prolong it? Much kinder, this way. You'd thank me for this one day. Maybe not now. Of course not."

Rosalie, rambling? I was silent, waiting until she was done, that foreboding, tightening sensation in my chest.

"She's dead, Edward. Bella's dead."

Silence.

"She jumped off a cliff. Alice saw it and she waited for her to reappear but she never did. Alice went straight to Forks. You know how she's like. She's probably with Charlie now, giving him what little comfort there is. And Edward, you must promise me not to do anything rash –"

A slight movement of the fingers and the call ended. For one long second there was nothing. Nothing but darkness, a great, gaping hole where my dead heart had once resided, and the sharp, pointy edge of the precipice of madness –

_No. _It couldn't be. I must know, for certain. Beyond the palest shadow of doubt. Only the truth could set me free.

It seemed to take centuries for my fingers to punch in the number I knew and memorized and thought about and agonized over those past months…

One ring was all it took.

"Swan residence," said an unfamiliar male voice.

"This is Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I said, mimicking his voice perfectly. "I'd like to speak to Charlie."

"He's not here," said the treble voice. The tone turned interested. "Say, you have a real sexy voice. Are you single?"

For a moment I thought I had imagined the words and I fleetingly thought that perhaps I did leap from that precipice. But my mind was still cool and blank, the pain muted. Feeling rather shocked and a bit disturbed at blunt question, I endeavored to restore some sense to this twisted situation.

"No," I answered curtly. "Where's Charlie?"

"He's at the funeral," said the voice nonchalantly. "Picked a weird time to call. Not that I mind. What did you say your name was again –?"

I snapped the phone shut.

* * *

That's when my descent into cold madness began.

There could be no doubt of my course. My life – existence, really – was tethered irrevocably to Bella's. She was gone now and I hadn't the strength to remain in this world without her. The Volturi were my only hope, and I was willing to be subjected to the likes of them in order for me to achieve my ends. They will, I knew, do the job neatly and without fuss. No lingering, no hesitance; quick and decisive. I could only hope that Aro would be unscrupulous enough to disregard the fact that I was Carlisle's son. There was also a chance that he would refuse in hopes that I would one day join them (a ridiculous premise, but regardless), desirous of my ability. But never mind. If they refuse I will force their hand somehow, but I'll do the courtesy of asking first. It was, after all, the quickest route to Bella.

It was remarkably simple dealing with insignificant details and logistics of my death, or whatever it is our kind does afterward. After that confirmation, the pain that followed it was the keenest, most excruciating that I've ever felt in my hundred plus years. Even my leaving Bella paled in comparison. When I made the snap decision to follow Bella, the pain seem to dull into a thrumming numbness while my brain, filled with black chaos, suddenly cleared into cold, clear focus – fixed on one sole goal that I was determined to reach, and nothing on hell and earth would deter me.

My family would understand the need to join my beloved to death, though I knew they would try to stop me at any means necessary. Faced with that, I immediately threw away the cell phone in the trash right after I booked the flight for Italy. I was calm, at least on the outside. My whole self, physically and emotionally, had relaxed considerably when it knew relief was coming. But the madness that had so firmly caught hold of me refused to relinquish its power and I could feel its tendrils crawling to slowly envelope me in a cold embrace. It was doubly hard trapped in an airplane with more than two dozen inane humans to resist going completely out of my mind. I tried to think of anything other than that bottled pain – and what I thought had little to do with the Volturi or of my approaching death.

Instead, I thought, for the first time in decades, of Sydney Carton.

It was strange that I should think of an insignificant fictional character at the most horrible, pivotal moment of my existence, even when I remembered one of my talks with Bella about Dickens (she was ambivalent about his works; for one thing Dickens had a difficult style to comprehend, yet compelling with a kind of raw power that made her reread, on occasion, his works. She most definitely preferred Austen's polite, dry prose). In my human life I had been fascinated by his _A Tale of Two Cities _– or more precisely, by Sydney Carton. The fact that this character, drunken, lazy, of questionable principles, should at the end achieve a kind of glorious immortality through his altruistic sacrifice awed me. To the human boy I was back then, who so eagerly wanted to go to war, who dreamt of honor and glory, who was seduced with the glorified idealism that they painted war in, Sydney Carton symbolized for me a hope in achieving grandeur after death – though I arrogantly didn't think about the chances of me dying in the war. The human is gone now, along with my Bella, and Sydney Carton became at length one of those uncountable redeemable characters and was thrown into the gray of anonymity. Until now.

He appeared to me now, condemned to the gleaming, blood-stained silver blade of the guillotine, condemned to the laughter and jeers and calls of the revolutionaries crying for Charles Evrémonde's blood. The expression on his face was so calm, so serene, that I felt a pang of jealousy. He may have deliberately chosen death, but I longed for it with more strength and fervor than he could ever imagine. His prophetic, silent soliloquy ran through my mind, sharp and clear as though I were reading the words on the printed page, and ended with a final, definitive statement:

_It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known. _

Bella's face came to me then, sweet and loving and so utterly beautiful that angels would weep at the sight. I closed my eyes so as better to see her, better to hear her coaxing whisper.

"_Come to me, Edward." _

_I will, _I responded silently to the figment of my imagination. _I am. Patience, love. I'll come. _

Yes, I'll come, I resolved, watching the golden glow of the sun setting on my last few moments on earth. To death, to the arms of my sweet Bella…to that far, better rest.

* * *

**A/N:…Methinks I got a little bit too carried away. :O**

**So there's my portrayal of Edward, which is…what comes to mind is **_**verbose**_**. Angstily so (yes, I know it's not a word, bear with me). I don't really like the beginning all that much (overkill, in my opinion…but again, it seem to fit Edward's state of mind) but I think it gets a little bit lighter in the middle. I was going to stop at "I snapped the phone shut" but first of all, Stephenie Meyer already ended it like that and I was too proud to steal that away, even if I was to begrudge you that chapter a day late. So instead I added about 850 words more, unwilling to leave Edward be. **

**Hope you enjoyed that, and I hope I portrayed Edward good enough. I've decided that this chapter will be a sort of a standalone from Meyer's oneshot; even the conversation with Rosalie isn't ad verbatim – wholly edited with bits made up so don't cry at the lack of accurateness. I didn't even reread Meyer's oneshot – that would have made me insecure and depressed enough to slow down the progress of the chapter and so I steered clear.**

**As for "A Tale of Two Cities"…well, originally I was going to scrap it but with my decision to add something more to that flimsy "I snapped the phone shut", I resurrected and ran along with the idea. It seemed to fit, as well as with the chapter title. Hope no one minded…**

**Also, congratulations to those who guessed/knew that Jack was going to answer the phone. Very obvious, wasn't it? I just couldn't help myself. I had to! You would have done the same, I know. Too bad it was not as funny as I intended. Blame Edward and his emoness. He ruins everything. I love him just the same. :D **

**All right, I'll stop talking now and leave you to your review conducting…hint, hint. :D **


End file.
